


Beautiful Perfect People

by lady_luck12



Series: The Othered [1]
Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Bottom Lu Han, I imagine them taking turns in this, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Past Child Abuse, but I only wrote bottom Lu Han
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 128,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_luck12/pseuds/lady_luck12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <i>“Some of what you've heard might be pretty lies and some of what I've been told could be crazy conspiracies but neither of us will ever know the real truth. No one does.”</i><br/></p>
</div>In 2198, Perfection is a gene injected into a person at birth, and those without the gene, Imperfects, are criminalized and denied their most basic of human rights.<p>Luhan, a Perfect model that just doesn't quite fit in, holds an unchanging resentment towards Imperfects and Perfects alike for various untold reasons. After encountering his boss's new secretary, Kim Minseok, a soft-spoken but mischievous male from the poorer districts within the Capital City, Luhan finds himself opening his eyes to new and dangerous beliefs, and the changing world around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is me reposting my fanfic from AFF. Now that I'm getting closer to the end of it, I'm a bit paranoid about something happening to it.  
> It is posted under the username Junglife on AFF if anyone wants to check it out there.

Luhan doesn’t know much about the Great War, he’d stopped paying attention to retelling after retelling of the story when he was young. He just knows it started in 2100 and lasted fifty years. He doesn’t know if it was a territorial dispute that caused it, or if it might have been another country trying to assert It’s dominance. He just knows that it set the foundation for Caelum. It was the after effects of the Great War that had country and person united under one government and the ones that hadn’t were either wiped out or were too insignificant to care about.

Luhan was born in 2175, 25 years after the war ended. His father was a war veteran, he’d joined the last efforts when he was 16 and helped Caelum become the country Luhan knew well.

Perfection, the gene, which engineers had tried to create in time with the war to make superior soldiers, was completed for human testing in the year Luhan was born. The first prototype, the answer to gene evolution had finally been finished.  It had promised to strengthen immune systems, senses, and the mind’s abilities. The first users, Luhan and the other children whose mothers died to give them such abilities were lauded. They were child prodigies until mid-2176 when a more stable Perfection gene came out and nearly every single person, except for the poor, got themselves injected with the gene.

In 2181, six years after the first prototype was released, the Imperfect genocide occured. The Great Ruler accused the _Imperfects_ , the children and adults without the Perfect gene, of being against the state. Half of Luhan’s classmates stopped going to school, and on the news there were images of men women and children being rounded up, handcuffs around their wrists, most sick and fragile looking.

They were animals, rebels against the order, and a danger to the foundation of man. They were monsters. Luhan remembers the fights, the riots that began and continued until over 3/4 of the world’s Imperfects were either dead or imprisoned.

The remaining 25% begun to hide in the cracks of the larger cities like vermin. They had no rights regarding them, nothing that kept them safe from abuse and thus the reason why most of the Red-light districts were filled with them.

The others were rebels, Red Devils, is what the media called them, Luhan never knew if that was their official name. He does remember watching a public execution of a high member on television before.

He remembers the words spilling from the gruff man’s lips, their slogan or chant, or whatever it was had scared 12 year old Luhan at the time. He’d watched as the bearded man glared straight into the cameras, arms behind his back as the silver metal of the handcuffs cut into his thick wrists. He stood beside a noose, and then as he’d begun to speak the executioner hung the noose around his neck.

The cameraman of the channel Luhan was watching zoomed in so that Luhan could get a good look at the guy, with grey-green narrowed eyes, and spit clinging to his lips as he shouted to the crowd. He’d dropped then, after his speech, and Luhan continued to watch as the man’s body convulsed his face turning a bright red and his eyes watering from the pain. Eventually he saw the light leave the man’s eyes, saw the way his body sagged into itself as he remained swaying, lifelessly.

More than the image of the death, the words the man spoke was the thing that kept him up with nightmares, the thing that brought a fire into his heart for his remaining years.

_We are the resistance, the rebels, the spirits of the burned books, and parents of dead children. We are the marginalized society, the Imperfects, and we won’t stop till perfection is dead. We won’t quit till the sky is red and ripe, and the blood of our oppressors runs through the city streets._


	2. Chapter one

_“The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection."_  
_― George Orwell_

 

Luhan stumbles out of the brothel late into morning. His clothes reek of outdated perfume and cigarette smoke. His sunglasses cover his eyes and the hood of his jacket hides the rest of his head as he lazily walks to his car which is three blocks down underneath a flickering yellow streetlamp.

The air is cold; sub-zero temperatures that make him shiver and hug himself closer despite the thick wool pea coat hanging off his skinny frame. The sleek expensive car beeps loudly in the quiet as he turns off the alarm and climbs inside. He breathes into his hands and rubs at them slightly in the dark of the car. In such a confined space, the clinging remains of the brothel’s odor suffocates him, and he prays that the stench of the Red Light District doesn’t cling to the leather of his car seats.

A boy, _an Imperfect_ , stumbles in front of his car moments later. He watches as the stranger grips the lamppost, brown hair in his eyes, and mouth open as he breathes in deep shuddering breaths of polluted air. He read, or maybe he was told, that their air wasn’t something Imperfects could survive in. It caused archaic diseases that no one had the cure for anymore.

Luhan’s father died of one of those diseases, Bronchogenic Carcinoma is what the physicians kept saying in hushed whispers when he was eleven, and three months later his dad was dead. Years later Luhan still didn’t have a clue what the disease actually was, nor did he remember how to pronounce it to be honest.

Luhan’s not supposed to be there, he’s not supposed to be helping lost causes, especially the people that should have died years ago, so he turns his car on, watching as the boy flinches away from the unexpected light and drives off. He has a shoot for a commercial in less than five hours and he wanted to get at least a bit of sleep. He wasn’t like the younger kids; he needed at least four hours of sleep if he didn’t want to look and feel like he’d been punched in both eyes.

********

“You didn’t get any sleep,” Kyungsoo, his manager says when Luhan drags himself inside of the car.  He’s got a gel eye mask over his face to relieve the tension in his sleep deprived eyes.  Kyungsoo’s tone is disapproving as if he can already figure out what Luhan spent the night doing, but Kyungsoo didn’t have a clue.

Kyungsoo is younger than him. Twenty or Twenty-one, Luhan can hardly remember his own age let alone his manager's. Not that it matters, Kyungsoo will always be younger than him but still in charge of him. Kyungsoo is also shorter than him by a few centimeters. Kyungsoo’s handsome though, he has wide eyes, and heart shaped lips. He could have been a model, a catalogue model maybe, but instead he chose to spend his life wearing suits and ties even in the sweltering heat of summer watching over Luhan.

“It’s been hard to sleep for years,” Luhan reminds him, readjusting his seat so that the bright light of the sun wasn’t shining in his eyes.

“That’s why you’ve got the pills,” Kyungsoo states. “One pill a night and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like these pills,” Luhan says. “They don’t take things away, or replace em, they just make it hard to wake yourself up. You don’t know what it feels like to be trapped in your dreams, in your memories.”

“Everyone’s trapped in their dreams Luhan,” Kyungsoo states softly.

“Unless they die,” Luhan states, “I read that somewhere, normal people wake up before they die.”

“If you don’t wake then what happens,” Kyungsoo asks. “Where do you go if you die in your dreams?”

“Where do you go when you die in your dreams,” Luhan asks back.

“I–I don’t…I don’t remember my dreams.”

“Sometimes I just face darkness,” Luhan mutters. He doesn’t want to continue the conversation, he hadn’t even wanted to bring up his sleeping problems, he just needed an excuse and he doubts telling his manager that he spent most of his night in the Red Light District would be okay.

“I need to pick up Sehun and Kai for the shoot,” Kyungsoo tells him. “After the shoot you need to go to the company. President Kim said he needs to meet you.”

“You don’t know what for do you,” Luhan asks, repressing the sigh on his lips.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Kyungsoo tells him. “It’s probably work-related though. President Kim rarely goes to me when he wants to talk to you about personal matters.”

Sehun and Kai live together in District Four where most of the college students and young adults lived.  The fourth district was surrounded by the most famous clubs and bars, but it didn’t hold the glitz and glam of District Two or Three, of Caelum’s capital city.

Sehun is the youngest but he’s also the tallest, he’s pale as if his skin had never seen sun or light in all his years. Luhan liked him the most out of the two because he had clung to Luhan upon first meeting him. Kai’s only a few months older than Sehun and he’s originally from east of the Capital. He was the opposite of Sehun from skin that had obviously kissed the sun to a quietness that made him shy whenever he wasn’t in front of the camera.

The three of them, Luhan, Kai and Sehun were on the same team, a modeling team that had been formed upon coincidence after coincidence. Luhan finishes early and Kyungsoo drives him all the way to District One for his meeting with the Company’s president.

“Do you need me to come get you afterwards,” Kyungsoo asks, before Luhan climbs out of the car.

“It’s okay Manager,” Luhan huffs, eyes straying to the gray building. Nessen’s Entertainment Agency was the biggest talent company in the city, and the second largest building in the capital. Rumor had it that the Great Ruler had spent a good amount of money on the company after the Great War. Caelum’s top models, actors, and singers all came from the company and faced instant fame the moment they debuted.

The building wasn’t too different from the rest on the outside. It was the second tallest in District One, but it was still gray with tall windows that no one could see into. Luhan slowly walks into the building, there’s no use stalling, he’ll have to meet the President either way, and if he doesn’t go now then he’ll be getting a personal visit to his apartment.

President Kim is a powerful man, he’s got greying hair and deep wrinkles from the constant frowns and angry expressions he subjected his face to on a daily basis. Luhan’s known President Kim for over half his life and he’d never seen him smile. The fifty-five year old was strictly business, and appearance. All he cared about were how things could benefit him in the end. When Luhan gets to the top floor of the company, he expects to see the tiny blonde woman that the president appointed as his secretary.

Instead he sees a man–a boy–that looks fresh out of high school or maybe at least still in college. He’s got pretty eyes, and full cheeks that remind Luhan of babies. The boy, man, is sitting at the blonde secretary’s desk, teeth harshly biting at his bottom lip as he concentrates on something on the computer.

Luhan approaches, steps heavy as his boots weigh him down, and he knows the boy’s aware of his presence even if he hasn’t said anything yet.

“I’m here to see President Kim,” Luhan announces. His fingers rest on the edge of the desk as he looks pass the papers, the black telephone, and cup full of pens to find a name. He’s searching for a clue to who this person in front of him is and he’s got nothing. Luhan will have to make sure to tell President Kim it won’t hurt to invest in nameplates for the secretaries. When he thinks about it he didn’t know the blonde girl’s name either.

The boy looks up to him, eyes flashing with momentary recognition as he grabs at the black phone, fingers pressing the button that connects him with President Kim’s office. He hears the boy’s voice, shaky, soft, and even a bit boyish.

“President Kim said to go right in Mr. Luhan,” the boy tells him, smiling in his direction. Luhan doesn’t. He grins a bit, happy the boy knows who he is, and even happier with the way his name sounds leaving those soft-looking pink lips.

“What’s your name,” Luhan asks. The boy blinks owlish, and Luhan grins, his harmless boy next door grin, and tries to appear innocently interested.

“Kim Minseok,” the boy answers, and Luhan smiles a bit broader.

“Nice to meet you Kim Minseok,” Luhan greets.  He leaves then. President Kim doesn’t like to be kept waiting and Luhan has gotten what he wanted for now.


	3. Chapter Two

Luhan peers wonderingly out of the tall glass window of his high-rise apartment. The television, set to a random entertainment channel, is blaring loudly to fill the silence of the place as he looks over the city lights, towel low on his waist. He sees nothing but the harsh artificial glare of white and neon lights against his window, but somehow it’s comforting.

There wasn’t much Luhan hated, nor were there much that he liked. Even then, the things he hated stood out the most in comparison to the few things he liked.

For instance, he hates being alone. He lives alone in a really big apartment, and isn’t particularly fond of it, but he has no choice. He has no one now; in the past he’d dated women and men, shacked up with them for the short period of time they’d be together and then kicked them out without a hint of remorse when the love died. In between the relationships were the flings, short things that he knew had an expiration date before they had even begun.

Luhan loved beautiful people, regardless of age, he loved the flashiness of their lives, and how they’d brighten up the dull greyness of his own with their eccentricities. He’d slept with widowed women that wore too much make up and too many bright colors. He’d been with older men, whose laughs shook the apartment, wore expensive gold rings, and white gold watches.

He’d loved them, the romances, the flings, in his own fleeting way, and now he was alone. President Kim had said months ago that there was too be no more traffic inside of his apartment, which meant no more loves, no more men , no more women, until he found a real relationship, not a distraction, but an actual long-term, give and take relationship.

While Luhan gets dressed his thoughts suddenly stray to President Kim’s new secretary. Kim Minseok wasn’t exactly his type. He liked his men older. He liked the type of guys that made him feel small, the ones that wanted to possess him in any and every way, and then show him off like he was a doll.

Kim Minseok was someone that looked too fragile, there was a boyish charm to him, an innocence that had yet to disappear even after he’d hit puberty. Luhan wanted to know more about him. Maybe he felt the same way for Minseok as he felt for Sehun when they first met, and then eventually Kai. Maybe Luhan wanted to take care of him, maybe he wanted to be friends with the boy. Maybe it was just a small curiosity; Kim Minseok was in fact the first male secretary President Kim had in a very long time.

********

A light laugh slips pass lips as red as the first bright rays of sun. Luhan’s whispering slurred secrets into the ear of the bubbly girl beside him as strong arms wrap around his waist. He leans back against his seat and the arms draw him closer and away from his new found friend. His eyes close momentarily, the dancing lights dizzying him, and the poignant smell of alcohol and the lingering woody scent of a cigar making him nauseous. He leans to his left, letting his head hit the shoulder of the person beside him, the same person holding him, and as arms pull him closer, Luhan responds by brushing his lips against the smooth skin of the person’s neck.

He draws up suddenly, body swaying against his will as he attempts to whisper in the man’s ear. “Let’s get out of here,” Luhan mutters, words slurred and so soft, it’s barely heard. The guy does hear him, because he’s helping Luhan up, and supporting him as they leave the club.

The hotel is not too far away, but they still take a taxi cab. Luhan disregards his image, legs straddling the man as he trails lazy kisses along his neck. Fingers slip into tight black jeans to pull him flush against his partner as they behave like two overly-hormonal schoolboys. He’s not sure how the guy pays the taxi driver but he doesn’t care because moments later they’re stumbling out of the taxi and heading straight towards a hotel elevator.

********

Luhan feels nauseous when he awakens. He feels gross from falling asleep sweaty and beside a stranger he barely knew a thing about. The guy he’d met at the club was a businessman traveling to the Capital for work, and had passed out almost as soon his back hit the bed. The man was still fast asleep and as Luhan recalls the night he can’t help but give the guy, whose name had slipped his mind, an annoyed glare.

Luhan decides to take his slow time abandoning the expensive hotel room and showers in the marble tiled bathroom. When he’s leaving the bathroom, dressed in one of the hotel’s fluffy thick white robes, a petite hotel staff member walks into the room with a cart full of cleaning supplies. Luhan smiles politely as the woman stands in a stunned silence, eyes’ moving from him to the man sleeping on the bed before a disgusted grimace darkens her face.

“Excuse me,” he tells her, when he hears the loud vibrations of his cellphone. It’s Kyungsoo calling, and even though everything in Luhan’s being is telling him to ignore the call he knows just how persistent Do Kyungsoo can be.

“The President’s angry,” Kyungsoo tells him before he can even say hello. “He went into a fit of rage when he heard that you didn’t come to your photo shoot today. The shoot that he told you he had arranged yesterday.” Luhan hears the soft sound of a door closing and turns his head, moving the phone away from his ear.

Once he realizes that the cleaning woman has left he begins to get dressed. “I forgot about it,” Luhan says. “Can’t it be rescheduled?”

“That was a future business partner Lu,” Kyungsoo tells him with a sigh. “That magazine is rising in notoriety. Some of the top stars all over the world have already been featured in it, and if you would have done the shoot, Nessen would have had a yearlong endorsement deal.”

“You couldn’t send Sehun or Kai in my place,” Luhan asks. On the bed the business man is finally starting to stir and Luhan turns his back, leaving the guy behind as he exits the room.

“It would have looked like we’re making fun of the guy,” Kyungsoo tells him, his voice is strained as if he is trying his best not to shout at Luhan and honestly Luhan appreciates the way the younger controls his temper. “He asked specifically for you, and the President promised him you’d be there.”

“What do I have to do,” Luhan sighs.

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says. “Talk to your father, talk to the editor-in-chief of ML Magazine, he was the one that requested you. Just do something before the day’s over.”

“Fine,” Luhan sighs.  “Damage control it is.” He’s not exactly sure when the term model translated into high class prostitute but apparently that was as much a part of his job as putting on expensive clothes and getting artsy pictures taken of him. Not often does he need to reduce himself to sexual favors, sometimes he plays escort, sometimes he plays older boyfriend, either way he was doing a lot more than his job description probably requires him to do.

********

ML Magazine’s editor-in-chief is no different than the rest and all it takes is a few lewd favors for the photo shoot to get rescheduled. Luhan makes the man promise to keep it a secret from the President because that’s how it works, President Kim doesn’t care what he does as long as he isn’t being too public about his sex life. He can give a guy a blowjob underneath his desk but if he invites a guy back to his place that’s going too far in the President’s eyes.

After visiting ML Magazine’s headquarters in the Capital, he heads back to Nessen’s. Kim Minseok, President Kim’s brand new secretary is finishing a call with a tiny professional smile as Luhan walks through the doors of the top floor office.

“President Kim is really upset with you,” Minseok tells him, just as Luhan approaches his desk.

“When is President Kim not upset with me,” Luhan asks.

“Yeah well President Kim has given me strict orders to not allow you into his office,” Minseok tells him, a small grimace on his lips. “I know it’s hard Mr....” he trails off, realizing that he doesn’t know Luhan’s last name. “I know it’s hard Mr. Luhan but could you please refrain from getting into too much trouble.  President Kim isn’t a kind man when he’s angry.”

“He bullies you,” Luhan asks, his eyes are wide even though he’s not really too surprised by the accusation. President Kim was a huge bully; Luhan had ten years of personal experience with the man’s imposing and demanding personality.

“He doesn’t bully me,” Minseok says with a laugh. “I’ve worked since I was sixteen, and I’ve met tons of bosses like President Kim, they’re just…”

Minseok trails off again and Luhan decides to fill in the blank for him, “Insufferable?” Minseok laughs more, it’s a real laugh, not one of his professional dismissive laughs and Luhan grins to himself thinking that Minseok should definitely laugh more. His laugh was a part of his boyish charms and Luhan could just imagine older women tripping over themselves to pinch at the boy’s cheeks.

“You started working when you were sixteen,” Luhan asks, “Minseok, how old are you?”

“I’m 23,” Minseok answers, he’s glancing at Luhan with amusement shining brightly in his eyes. “My birthday is March 26,” he adds. Luhan, the poster boy of deceiving baby faces, hadn’t expected that. He thought Minseok was at least twenty, twenty-one at most.  He’d reminded Luhan of a less high-strung Kyungsoo, mature but still possessing a somewhat childish naivety.

“You’re older than me,” Luhan says when he finally comes out of his stupor. Minseok gives him a closed-mouth grin and Luhan figures from the way the boy’s shoulders are shaking that he’s trying to suppress his laughter. “Don’t laugh,” Luhan tells him. “I didn’t really expect to hear that. You don’t look twenty-three.”

“Neither do you,” Minseok retorts, smoothly rolling his eyes.  Luhan leans over Minseok’s desk just as the black corded telephone starts to ring.

Minseok grabs the telephone and holds it close to his face. “Nessen Entertainment office, Kim Minseok speaking, how may I help you?”  Luhan watches as Minseok nods his head mumbling out soft yeses and other confirming noises when it’s appropriate. He mutters a ‘please hold’ and clicks a button on the black telephone body.

“President Kim, Ernest Baudet of Central Broadcasting Station is calling,” Minseok says, tongue easily forming the foreign syllables. President Kim tells him to allow the man through and Minseok does so, putting the phone back on the receiver afterwards.

“Ernest Baudet,” Luhan says the name with much more difficulty than Minseok.

“He’s the new head of CBS,” Minseok says. “He’s from the west and supposedly close to Great Ruler. The last head, Sada Mariko, her husband was charged with treason. It was all over the news. He was a member of the Red Devils.” Luhan doesn’t watch the news; he’d stopped watching it long ago, fed up with the propaganda. 40% of it dealt with the Imperfects, the rebels, the many that had refused to convert and refused to die, painting them to be creatures that weren’t even human, that prevented the world from living up to the country’s true name, _Heaven_. After the news inflicted fear into its viewers, the remaining 60% dealt with a history lesson on the Great War and the Great Ruler. _Love thy Great Ruler who has led his people out of the burrows of hell into a shining future._

“Minseok, I have to meet with a childhood friend of mine, mind giving a message to the President for me?”

“Sure,” Minseok says, grabbing a pen and a paper.

“ML magazine’s shoot has been rescheduled for this oncoming Monday.” He straightens himself up, readying to leave and purposely ignoring Minseok’s surprise eyes, but then a sudden thought hits him.

“Minseok, when is your lunch break,” he asks next.

“Noon,” Minseok answers, as his surprise melts into curiosity.

“Okay,” Luhan says. He bides the secretary goodbye, and leaves the office.


	4. Chapter Three

When Luhan arrives to Li Corporations the sun has long set, and the windows are a shiny onyx color. Within the company’s parking garage only a few cars remain, regardless the company is still open. The important offices at least are still running.

 Li Corporations is like a second home to Luhan, the amount of times he visited made it seem that way. The receptionist, a beautiful woman with red hair greets him with her usual smile as he heads towards the elevator.

“Kris Wu, didn’t I bring you a book about the cons of overworking yourself,” Luhan asks with a grin, slipping his brand name sunglasses off and smiling at the man in front of him. “Should I bring a physician next time so he can lecture you?”

He takes a seat in one of the soft leather seats, and rests his head on his hand.  Kris looks away from his computer to glare at Luhan as he presses a button on the intercom like device on his desk.

“Jongdae what did I say about letting Luhan in,” Kris asks.

“Did you forget what I said about Luhan letting himself in,” Jongdae retorts, his voice is a bit whiney and the static of the intercom makes it crackle. Luhan has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Kris sits back on his desk chair, the wheels pushing him slightly away from his desk as he stares blankly at Luhan. “What do you want,” he asks.

“Here for my monthly visit,” Luhan explains, he leans forward in his chair to grin wickedly at Kris. “Kris Wu, Wu Yifan, how have you been my dear friend?”

“Busy,” Kris retorts. He rolls his eyes, going back to his computer to finish up his work. “Are you really here for me or are you here because I’m technically your only friend at the moment.” He has a hint of a grin on his face, and Luhan grins wider. Kris always looked so serious when he wasn’t smiling especially when he was dressed in his expensive corporate suits. Kris liked it though; the intimidation he naturally brought made people do their jobs without complaint.

Luhan slips his leather jacket off his broad shoulders, the room’s moderately temperate but looking continuously at Kris in his suit is making Luhan feel stuffy. “Technically?” Luhan asks. “I’m not the only one that only has one friend. Kris if I wasn’t such a good friend you’d be friendless.”

“How’d we become friends again,” Kris asks sarcastically.

“Perfect gene support group,” Luhan replies, “We both lost our moms and have pretty crappy father figures.”

“At least you’re not related to yours,” Kris retorts. Luhan laughs and so does Kris even though it’s softer than Luhan’s.

“It’s always a competition with us isn’t it,” Luhan asks.

“You win,” Kris says. “You always win. If I went through half the crap you went through I would have checked myself into a mental asylum long ago.”

“So Luhan you know how my life has been so far,” Kris starts, he chuckles lightly and his eyes shine in amusement at playing along with the older male. “How have you been?”

“Well Kris,” Luhan says with a grin. “I’m glad you asked. I’ve been living well. Yesterday I had a shoot with the kids for a commercial, for some sort of product, and then had to meet with President Kim. I met his new secretary. It’s a boy by the way. I also spent my company with a nice man last night. Today I had a shoot with ML Magazine, I’m sure you don’t know what that is, but I missed it.”

He finishes his explanation of his last two days and waits for Kris’s input. It was a rather common exchange between the two. Luhan would come, interrupt Kris’s incessant working, complain about his life, and then Kris would state his opinion or give advice.

“You missed a shoot,” Kris asks. “Well you’re alive so I’m guessing President Kim managed to not strangle you. How are you still alive Lu, ML Magazine is getting pretty big.”

“He didn’t even want to see me,” Luhan says, he sounds like he’s bragging. “I got the shoot rescheduled though. You know how those fashion people work Kris. We’re all egotistical people with high working libidos. We’ll do anything for a bit of attention and good sex.” Kris grimaces and Luhan doesn’t know rather to grin a bit more or pity the man in front of him.

“President Kim has a new secretary,” Kris says suddenly changing the subject. “It’s a he? Is he your type or something? You normally don’t pay attention to his staff, and if you do, you normally don’t tell me about them.”

“He’s baby-faced,” Luhan explains. “He’s got cheeks that remind me of…” He trails off then pursing his lips together to think of how to describe Minseok’s cheeks. “A baby’s,” he asks himself, slightly flustered at his lack of imaginative adjectives. “He’s just really adorable. He’s our age though.”

“You sound infatuated,” Kris says. “It’s strange. What’s his name?”

“Kim Minseok,” Luhan answers. “I admit, I am interested but it’s not in that way yet. Minseok’s a pretty interesting person. He has to be if President Kim hired him.”

“Do I have to give you the speech or will you control your hormones?”

“He’s not my type,” Luhan states waving his hand dismissively. “Speaking of types, how’s the newest bridal candidate.” Kris had been going on different dates, set up by his father to find a wife for him and to continue the legacy. The younger male had a lot of complaints when it came to his father, but the bridal search wasn’t one of them.  Kris was a young eligible bachelor, but his focus on work made him completely closed off to love.

“She’s a lesbian,” Kris tells him.

“Is that code for not your type or,” Luhan pauses, trailing off a bit.

“She’s an actual lesbian,” Kris explains. “She has a girlfriend and everything. Apparently her girlfriend’s net worth is lower than mine, that is why her parents wanted to pawn her off to me.”

“The rich are truly in a class of their own,” Luhan says. He starts off serious but then breaks into small laugh.

He stands reluctantly and Kris does the same. “Done with work,” Luhan asks as he picks up his jacket.

“Going to dinner,” Kris says, “as per Jongdae’s demand.” He slips from around his desk and walks to his door holding it open for Luhan.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I liked Jongdae,” Luhan asks.

“Are you coming with us Luhan,” Jongdae asks, he’s in the middle of putting on his suit jacket, grin on his lips as he looks over to the two older men.

“No thanks,” Luhan says. “I have a half-empty bottle of Brandy at home calling my name.” Kris grimaces, face full of open disapproval.

Luhan leaves with the pair, just as it begins to rain. Small drops of water sprinkles down to the earth lightly, darkening the already grey streets and buildings to an almost black color. The smell of city rain is the most unique of all smells. It’s not really a pleasant smell but Luhan gets a whiff of it as he heads to his car inside the parking deck.

“Lu,” Kris calls to him as Luhan reaches his car. Luhan pauses with the door open, turning towards Kris with a raised eyebrow. Kris jogs towards him, the slaps of his expensive leather shoes against the damp pavement, echo in the air. One of Kris large hands comes down to grasp his shoulder and Luhan frowns a bit. “Be safe. I don’t need you of all people doing something stupid.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Luhan asks.

“If you’d watch the news you‘d know that the rebels are getting worse,” Kris explains. “It’s been said that they’re going after high people now.

“Like CBS’s former boss,” Luhan asks.

“Yeah, she’s not getting amnesty though, she actively joined them, even if she was tricked in the beginning. Anyway, you’re a celebrity even if you don’t believe it, you could be targeted.”

Luhan smiles reassuringly at Kris. “Don’t worry,” he says softly. “You’re better off worrying about yourself. They’re more likely to come after the son of the CEO working with the Great Ruler than a lowlife model.”

Kris opens his mouth as if he’s going to counter what Luhan is going to say but he decides against it, and quickly closes his mouth. “Just stay safe,” he mumbles a moment later. Luhan watches as Kris stuffs his hands into his coat’s pockets and shuffles backwards for a bit before turning on his heels and heading towards the black luxury car. Luhan can see Jongdae’s shadow when Kris opens the door, and he lifts a hand up in a lazy attempt at a goodbye wave as Kris gets in the car.

Kris will be safe, Luhan reassures himself as he enters his own car, and starts the engine. The loud instrumental of neo-jazz fills the car as he grips the steering wheel.  Kris lived in a highly secure house in the middle of District one, and he always had a bodyguard or someone with the same qualifying skills accompanying him when he wasn’t at home or in the office.

Luhan too, would be safe. He was the golden boy of Nessen, and President Kim was known to have connections with the Great Ruler, but Luhan would be okay. The world knew that Luhan was merely a dollar sign to President Kim and hurting him would lead to a new golden boy and with it the same news coverage as hurting any other Perfect. It wouldn’t be something that would go down in history it would just be something tragic.


	5. Chapter Four

Sleep never comes easy for Luhan when he’s alone and sober. While the rest of the city is asleep, Luhan is wide awake reading books that have probably been outlawed. It’s not fiction, fiction writing had died long ago and all that remained were the dark fairytales of princesses, forests, and evil. Luhan reads self-help books and books about medical conditions both mental and physical.

His current book is about Insomnia, and he reads through it while infomercials play loudly in the background. It’s his bedtime story in an abnormal way. He reads it till the words make little sense in his mind and his eyelids get too heavy. Like clockwork Luhan nearly always falls asleep with the first lights of day.

Even on his first day off after such a long time Luhan doesn’t get to sleep in. He wakes before noon to incessant banging, and the loud obnoxious ringing of his doorbell. His first thought is someone is dying or the building is on fire, and despite his brain urging him to hurry to stop the noise his tired body won’t let him go faster than he’s always walking.

Luhan stops in front of his door, the noise has stopped but there are voices, loud and muffled on the other side and part of Luhan just wants to go back to sleep, maybe climb in his bed and huddle underneath the covers instead of resting on the leather sofa.

Reluctantly he opens the door and catches sight of Oh Sehun and Kim Jongin standing in front of a glaring Do Kyungsoo.

“We brought you coffee,” Sehun says, breaking into a grin as he lifts the tray of drinks up for Luhan to see. Luhan moves to the side and lets the younger two trip over themselves to get inside his apartment. He watches as Kyungsoo enters passing him a sympathetic look as Luhan closes the door behind him.

“So I’m guessing there’s been a change of schedule,” Luhan utters, a sigh slipping pass his lips as he eyes Jongin sitting on his sofa, and Sehun stumbling out of his kitchen, fingers clutching two cups of coffee.

“You could still have your day off,” Kyungsoo tells him, “as long as you don’t mind spending it in the back of a van.”

“Where are we going,” Luhan asks, taking the coffee out of Sehun’s hand and sitting beside Jongin on his sofa.  He takes a slow sip and lets his shoulders sag just a bit. “And why are we going now?”

“The photographer for tomorrow had a change of heart and wanted a more authentic back drop for tomorrow, the higher ups in their company agreed” Jongin states. He raises an eyebrow and Kyungsoo takes over the explanation.

“Tomorrow’s shoot is a desert shoot,” Kyungsoo explains. “We’re going to the desert because our photographer is so eccentric that he can’t work with a computer generated background.”

“So we’re driving to the middle of nowhere for a shoot for tomorrow and then tomorrow you’re going to drive me back for a different shoot the next day,” Luhan asks. “Six hours to and fro,” Luhan continues. “Is that safe, we’re going out of jurisdiction to a no-man’s land, and we’re more vulnerable because we’re from the Capital.”

“We’re taking a campervan out,” Kyungsoo says. “Government officials are coming with us. Just bring you’re identification.”

“Manager said that campervans are like compact apartments, they have bathrooms, beds, and even tiny kitchens,” Sehun tells him finally speaking up. “I’ve never been in one it sounds fun. I’ve never even been out of the Capital.”

“We went to Asaea,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “Took a plane there and even went sight-seeing.”

“We should vacation there,” Sehun says as Luhan begins leaving to his bedroom to get dressed. The last thing he hears before he closes his door is Sehun gushing about the city that was half above the sky and half on solid ground.

********

The camper is bigger than what Luhan initially expects. It’s like an all-white mini truck, with ugly beige and off white curtains covering the back windows. It’s old and Luhan secretly wonders if it’s a pre-war vehicle, made in a time where according to the legends, violence, and war were everyday occurances. This is his first time seeing a camper in real life and a part of Luhan wonders if it’s even safe to ride in.

Kyungsoo’s talking to the driver. The guy’s a middle-aged balding man that continues to remove his hat from his head despite the cold temperature of the day. The two younger kids are moving around attempting to get pictures of the camper from every angle, they see this as just another adventure and something new to experience. Luhan just feels worried.

It’s one thing to roam around the city without a care despite the bold claim of rebel Imperfects, it’s another entirely different thing to actually head into their territory. It was a well-known rumor that the Red Devils had camps throughout the desert because no sane person would wander there. It was a no man’s land, a place people only traveled when they gave up. It was said that the dead soldiers remains were buried in the dirt. Luhan didn’t want to find out.

“We’re going,” Kyungsoo calls out, and Luhan moves to the side to let Kyungsoo enter first. The door rattles, but it doesn’t open. Kyungsoo has to jiggle the handle to make it work, and the door finally unsticks swinging back wildly. Luhan can’t help but eye it in disdain. Sehun and Jongin rush inside like a pair of feral dogs looking to cause destruction and Luhan enters after them half expecting them to start jumping off seats and what not.

“Is there heat in this thing,” Luhan asks, sitting down and taking his jacket off.  Jongin is tampering with the tiny television hanging above the entrance to the driver’s and front passenger’s seat and Sehun is typing rapidly on his phone.

“You should wear a thicker jacket,” Kyungsoo tells him. Luhan watches him move over to the driver, and moments later the whizzing of heat sounds through the relative silence. It makes a few soft thudding noises as if it’s about to die but then it just lets out a soft noise that can easily be ignored. Kyungsoo sits in the passenger’s seat beside the driver, starting up a mundane conversation with the stranger.

Kai gives up trying to get the television working, to sulk over to the dinette and sit glaring at the window. Luhan lets his eyes roam around the room before stilling on the bed in the very back. It’s pretty big and can probably fit four really skinny boys if they squeeze in tight.

“Who are you messaging,” Jongin asks still pouting, and Luhan sits back so that he can try and peer over Sehun’s shoulder.

“Kim Minseok,” Sehun answers not looking up from his phone.

“Minseok-hyung,” Jongin asks, quickly cheering up. “Are you telling him about the campervan?”

“Minseok-hyung,” Luhan repeats.

“Yeah President Kim’s new secretary is from the same place my ancestors lived,” Jongin explains. “So he lets me call him hyung ‘cause it sounds nice and he likes it when people acknowledge that he’s older than them.”

“You guys seem pretty close to Minseok,” Luhan states.

“He’s really nice,” Sehun says, putting his phone down on the table. “We went to lunch together once, and he told us that he used to want to be a barista when he was a kid, and now he wants to own his very own shop. Isn’t that cool?”

“How is that cool,” Luhan asks with a huff. “It’s not that hard to become a barista, you know, you can do it right after high school if you want. You don’t even have to go to school to do it. It’s a simple dream.”

“But it’s Minseok-hyung’s dream, and I think it’s cool because not many people have dreams nowadays,” Jongin counters. “Even if he dreamt to be President Kim’s secretary I would still think that’s pretty awesome.”

“You didn’t dream to be a model,” Luhan asks, eyes flickering from Jongin to Sehun. They’d joined at the same time, two high school friends that were too tall and too good-looking for their own good.

“No,” Sehun answers. “Jongin wanted to so we did. We don’t mind the extra money and we didn’t have much to do anyway. The only people that go to college are people that want jobs at places like Li Corporations or under the government.”

“We can’t do normal jobs,” Jongin adds, his nose scrunched slightly in disdain. “We’d look nice in suits but the repetition and the rigidness would have killed us.”

“I have a book for you,” Luhan says a moment later. “It’s about Narcissism.  It’s a personality disorder.”

“Perfects don’t have disorders.” Sehun tells him rolling his eyes.

Luhan bites back the snarky remark on the tip of his tongue and turns towards Kyungsoo and the unknown driver. For all he knows the guy could be working for the government and Luhan needed to watch what he said. He couldn’t be careless in his speech, he still held on to so many things that would be considered incriminating for a person like him, and Luhan didn’t want to be watched by the government.

Instead Luhan turns and moves the curtains to gaze out of the window. They’re on the freeway. The sun shines over their car and the sky is surprisingly clear and bright, yet everything still seems dull.

“What kind of person is Kim Minseok anyway,” Luhan asks returning back to the topic on hand. He leans closer to the window, observing the drivers and their passengers zooming through their boring lives.

“Luhan-hyung are you into Minseok-hyung,” Jongin asks. Luhan wrinkles his nose the way Kai had done and he shakes his head softly. He can just make out his translucent reflection in the slight tint of the window and he watches as it copies him.  He sees the way his hair moves out of place slightly from the soft shakes and the way his lips pull into the tiniest of frowns.

“He’s not my type,” Luhan states simply, eyes still trained on his reflection. “I just want to know what makes Kim Minseok so…” he trails off attempting to find the perfect word and his eyebrows furrow just slightly. “Unique?”

Sehun makes this strange little face that shows he’s thinking before he finally turns towards Luhan. “I don’t know. I don’t think you really know what makes a person unique. Besides we don’t know Minseok all too well.  He’s just really kind. He’s like a rare breed of human. You can’t really find a person like him in today’s time.”

Luhan turns towards Sehun with a quirk of his lips. “When did you start getting all deep on me,” Luhan asks. “I guess you’re not a baby anymore.”

“I was never a baby,” Sehun says pouting and crossing his arms across his chest, his actions going against his words. “Minseok doesn’t treat me like a baby.”

“Because he hasn’t watched you grow up,” Luhan tells him. “Just because you’re a man now doesn’t stop you from being like a baby brother to me.” Luhan’s not stupid even if he’s good at pretending to be when it advantages him. He’s really observant and he sees the flash of hurt in Sehun’s eyes at the statement. Luhan knew Sehun liked him, could still recall the day he found out. Luhan did his best to convey to the boy that it would never happen. He didn’t want to lead Sehun on, he was a good kid and could probably find someone much better than him.

He watches as Sehun stands abruptly and goes over to Kyungsoo’s side. From the corner of his eye’s he can see Jongin glaring at him, as Sehun and Kyungsoo talk in hushed whispers before Kyungsoo stands and heads over to the dinette.

“What’d I miss,” Kyungsoo asks with a friendly smile trying to defuse the tension.

“Nothing,” Luhan replies, standing and heading towards the huge bed in the back of the camper.

********

Kai’s arm is thrown around Luhan’s waist, and he can feel the boy’s breath against his neck. It’s one thing having a person cling to you when you’re drunk and exhausted. It’s a completely different thing to be fully awake and having your friend cling to you like a koala.

He’d taken his sleeping pills ten minutes prior and in another ten he’d probably feel the first signs of sleepiness start to appear. He regrets it, he’d never taken the pills in the presence of others, he knew the nightmares continued but he hoped that he suffered silently. Kyungsoo had persuaded him to take them but Kyungsoo was also the only one that knew about his nightmares. The last thing he needed was disturbing the younger two’s sleep because of it.

Luhan’s eyelids become a bit heavier as he recalls what Sehun said earlier. If Perfects didn’t have disorders than maybe Luhan wasn’t a Perfect. It’s not like he wanted this life anyway, but then again he doesn’t want the life of an Imperfect either. He doesn’t want to be perfect or imperfect, he just wants a bit of peace of mind.


	6. Chapter Five

They leave the camper at the first few rays of brilliant sunlight. Luhan leans against the camper, his jacket barely keeping him warm. In a bit, the sun will rise into the sky, but the temperature won’t increase by too much. They were in a semi-arid desert, a desert that was cold in the winter but suffered from hot and dry summers.  There was no snow, even though occasionally in the cold months there tended to be a dusting every now or then in the area.

Luhan watches as the camera crew begins to set up the equipment, their voices loud as they shout commands. The driver of their camper is leaning in front of the vehicle, smoking a cigarette while Luhan gets the occasional whiff of the smell from his spot. He doesn’t think the shoot will go smoothly. Desert weather is unpredictable especially during the winter, and he’s sure that a disaster’s bound to happen.

He slips back inside the camper and watches as Jongin and Sehun huddle together at the dinette eating food that shouldn’t even be considered breakfast.

“Are you hungry,” Kyungsoo asks him. “I really think you should eat. It’s not good to go so long without food, especially since you took your pills.”

Luhan looks over to the box filled with sugary unhealthy donuts, then towards Kyungsoo standing beside the portable coffee machine. “Where’d you get this,” Luhan asks, he grabs a cup from beside the machine.

“One of the stylists lent it to me,” Kyungsoo says, grimacing slightly when Luhan takes a sip of his black coffee. “How can you drink something so bitter?”

“It wakes me up,” Luhan explains, he leaves Kyungsoo’s side to go to the box of donuts and picks out the plainest one in view.

“The stylist will be by in half an hour to get you ready,” Kyungsoo tells them before exiting.

“Do you think the driver is Kyungsoo-hyung’s type,” Jongin asks into the air as his eyes stare at the door the older boy has left through.

“Does he even have a type,” Sehun asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with a guy or girl.”

“I’ve known Kyungsoo a lot longer than you two and he doesn’t mix business with pleasure,” Luhan says as he swallows a bit of his donut, it’s dry and sticks to the roof of his mouth but he’d rather suffer from that than the other choices he had. “Ever,” he adds. “Besides the guy smokes and Kyungsoo hates smokers almost as much as I do.”

“So I still have a chance,” Jongin mutters to himself. Luhan bites his tongue and watches from the corner of his eyes as Sehun pats the boy on the shoulder in a reassuring manner.

********

In the middle of the desert, with two guys surrounding him, Luhan poses in summer clothes despite the low temperatures. They huddle closer together than they probably should while pretending to pose all while trying to keep warm.

Behind the camera stands three workers with thick parkas in their hands waiting for them to finish. It’s inviting, the fluffy goose feather coats that are splayed open, and Luhan does his best to concentrate on the shoot. Finish the shoot, get a huge coat to warm himself in, and finally leave the horror of the desert behind.

It takes four hours of non-stop photo taking before they finally get a break that lasts longer than a quick fix of makeup and hair, or a clothing change. They get no breaks because the photographer realizes just how quickly the weather can turn and he’s not able to turn a one-day shoot into a two-day one, therefore after four hours of continuously posing in subtly different ways they’re done.

The models get to leave first, so after a few professional goodbyes, they head out back to the Capital in their camper. They play childish car games as they wait to see civilization once more. Kyungsoo, who’s in the back with the other models, had asked if the driver would like to switch roles. Six hours to and from one place with no real change in scenery wasn’t an easy drive. However, the driver had declined his offer.

The camper comes to a sudden stop that has Luhan crashing into Jongin clumsily, which leads to a huge domino effect with Kyungsoo suffering the end results. Luhan has a bit of trouble sitting up but when he does sit up he heads towards the front where the driver is located just as the man begins opening his door.

“Stay inside,” the guy commands, slipping out of the automobile. Luhan slips to his knees to peer through the window just as the others come up behind him. Outside the driver is talking to a tall strange man. The guy has his mouth and nose covered what a mask and a heavy jacket on his frame. His boots black but covered in brown dirt and on his hands are frayed fingerless gloves.

“Who’s that,” Jongin mumbles sinking down beside Luhan to get a better look at the guy. The guy is standing tall, towering over the driver and his eyes are narrowed as if he’s angry, Luhan can’t hear him or see his lips but between his stance and the driver’s, he seems to be threatening the driver.

The unknown man eyes flicker over to the campervan and Luhan can feel Jongin stiffen beside him. “Is that an Imperfect,” he asks. Luhan looks from Jongin to the guy and catches a flicker of silver in the guy’s left hand, the hand the driver can’t see.

He stands quickly, knocking roughly into Sehun as he does so. He pauses pass both Kyungsoo and Sehun as he heads towards the camper’s exit. He can hear Kyungsoo behind him telling him not to leave but he ignores the boy’s words, quickly stepping out of the camper and into the cold desert air. He doesn’t know why he leaves the camper, Luhan has zero self-defense skills and he’s more likely to get himself killed than anything but if he didn’t attempt to stop this fight there would be a good chance that he would end up a hostage.

The Red Devils were ruthless, after having lost hope for living a normal life they didn’t mind killing whoever they needed to get their points across women and children like.

“Didn’t I say to stay in the van,” the driver asks.

“I already sent our coordinates to the Capital,” Luhan says voice quivering just slightly, “in less than ten minutes there should be a helicopter overhead.” He turns towards the unknown man. “If you kill him or me, your whole camp will be found and destroyed.”

That’s the biggest bluff he’d ever let slip his lips and he’s praying that it works. He doesn’t know yet what type of weapon the man is in possession of. The only person that could get them out of the middle of nowhere was the driver and if he died then they would be sitting ducks until the rest of the rebels came.

The guy looks from Luhan to the driver and then finally to the camper where everyone else is still watching them. He mumbles something in a foreign language but neither Luhan nor the driver reacts. He mumbles more foreign words fingers waving them away in a dismissing manner. Luhan doesn’t think twice, he quickly grabs the driver’s arm and leads him back to towards the camper never taking his eyes off the unknown man. When they’re safely inside they watch as the guy limps over to the side to let them pass through.

“He was hurt,” the driver explains after they’ve left the man behind. “I didn’t think at the time what he could possibly be or do.”

“You almost got yourself killed,” Luhan reminds him. “Think of that the next time you see someone hurting in the middle of nowhere.” The driver doesn’t respond, his fingers grip the steering wheel loosely and Luhan finds himself forming tight fists with his hands as he moves once more to the back. He sits quickly, fingers clasped tightly together on his lap to stop the shake that’s still clinging onto him.

“Was that really an Imperfect,” Sehun asks, voice curious and not even the least bit fearful of having come so close to death. Luhan draws his lips together, in thought. It was strange how one second they went from wondering who the man was to what he was. It was sad how being branded an Imperfect strip a person of their humanity.

“He wasn’t just an Imperfect he was a Red Devil,” Luhan mutters.

“That was a rebel,” Jongin asks sitting up with wide eyes. He slings back into his seat afterward a small grimace on his lips. “Wow, I don’t…I’m not sure how I feel.”

“What do you mean,” Kyungsoo asks. It’s the first time he’s spoken up since Luhan and the driver had come back and Luhan can hear the way his voice falters towards the end. To anyone else that would be an obvious sign of fear but Luhan knows from experience that his voice just sounds like that when there are many thoughts in head and he wants nothing more than to voice them.

“Honestly I never thought the Red Devils were real,” Jongin admits. “We read about them in History class and we’ve seen reports on them but they’ve always seemed so far-fetched. I don’t know it just never seemed real.”

********

The ride back to the Capital continues on in silence. Luhan spends the time gazing out of the window into the bleak nothingness of the country. His thoughts vary from the Imperfects living in the cold desert to the people who had died there, fighting in a war that destroyed cities, and razed towns.

Eventually, they get back to the actual paved road, where towering buildings could be seen in the foggy distance. They’ll have to pass through toll after toll before they can get back to the Capital. Each person in their group needed to show proof of their Perfection status. One immediate medical look over at the first city, coupled with a brief view through the database in the following city.

The Capital was stricter than the other two cities. It was the capital of Caelum, it was what kept the country functioning, any attacks against it could put the country at high risk and no one wanted that. People entering the Capital had to state their reasons for being there and verify their identity in a process that took a little under an hour.

It was always easier leaving cities than coming back.

At the first stop, each person in the Camper has to have their blood drawn and examined. They present their identification, a tiny chip embedded into the skin of their right wrists, and then get a physical examination by a professional. It doesn’t take long and they’re permitted to continue on their way.

Luhan isn’t particularly fond of the process. Unlike the others when he’s done with his examination he’s trapped still in the examination room, as those working with the physician discuss his obvious flaws. He was a first generation Perfect. He would never be like the newer Perfects.

The next city they don’t linger for too long in. It’s a 20-minute process, and they get stamped approvals before they move forward. As they continue forward Jongin and Sehun both fall asleep. Sehun falls asleep on the queen-sized bed in the back, while Jongin sleeps with his head rested on the tiny table, his folded arms a makeshift pillow. Kyungsoo’s back in the front of the camper beside the driver and light music fills the air.

The officials in the Capital treat him like the officials in the first city had done, they watch him as if he’s going to pledge his allegiance to the Red Devils. They stare at him as if he’s not a Perfect as if he hasn’t lived in the Capital for his entire life. It’s as if he’s an outsider.

********

Kyungsoo drives the younger two home first, it makes sense, Kyungsoo and him live in the same district just in different buildings.

“Kyungsoo I need you to make an appointment with the physician,” Luhan says, as he plays with his phone. The commercial that he’d done with the other two had been released and Luhan is looking through comment after comment basking in the praise of strangers.

“Did you run out of pills,” Kyungsoo asks, eyes flickering over to Luhan quickly. “I can pick them up for you.  Just give me the prescription.”

“No,” Luhan says. “I don’t need more pills. I just need an appointment. I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ll schedule you an appointment for after your shoot tomorrow. You just have to do one thing for me.”

“Which is,” Luhan asks, looking up from his phone and pocketing the device.

“Staying inside tonight, don’t go out, don’t do anything stupid. Just stay in and rest,” Kyungsoo tells him. “You could have died today.”

“If I didn’t try to stop what was happening we all could have died,” Luhan justifies. He doesn’t try to argue with Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo’s not a person people argue with unless they want to get on his bad side. Kyungsoo was powerful, his father worked for National Security, while his mother was a history professor at the National University inside the Capital. He was appointed manager by President Kim himself and was nearly one of the most powerful persons in Nessen despite his small stature.

He promises to rest as he leaves Kyungsoo’s car. He can’t find it in his heart to try and spend the night out anyway.


	7. Chapter Six

“These will help,” Luhan’s told as the physician hands him a bottle of brand new pills and the prescription to go with it.

“What is this,” Luhan asks, struggling to read the scientific words on the thin white paper.

“A vitamin,” the physician tells him. “It’s common for first generation Perfects to feel a depletion of energy faster than the newer generation. This will help you from feeling so tired. The only side effect that may occur is a quickening of the heart rate, but it’s safe to use. Do you have any questions?”

“The pills you have me taking now,” Luhan starts, turning the paper over in his hands. “Is there any way I can get my previous ones back.”

“We’ve discontinued your previous pills,” the physician says. “What’s wrong what the current pills?”

“Nothing,” Luhan lies with a sigh, he slouches in the seat, eyes straying back to the pills and prescription in his hand. “The first ones were a bit easier to swallow.”

The physician, an older woman with graying black hair and deep eye wrinkles, pats at his shoulder good-naturedly. “If you take your pills everyday then you’ll get used to them.”

The physician’s office is on the top floor of a tall city building, it’s inconspicuously hidden under the name of Healing Center. The whole building was a healing center of sorts from the floors dedicated to spas to offices that were plastic surgery consultants.  There were even a few hidden astrologists willing to give customers a reading of their future if they paid the expensive fee.

After a massage he finally leaves the building, checking his cellphone for new messages and calls.He’s got a call from an unknown number and at first means to  ignore it till it calls him back while he’s driving home.

“Luhan,” he hears the voice of an old family friend call when he answers.

“Junmyeon,” Luhan greets, the corners of his lips turning up just slightly. “Why are you calling?”

“I’m back in the Capital,” Junmyeon says, and Luhan can hear the rush of people in the background. “District Three. I’m planning to go to this new restaurant, an upscale place with a variety of region based food. Come with me.”

“I’m not dressed for an upscale place,” Luhan tells him.

“Neither am I,” Junmyeon retorts, an easy laugh slipping pass his lips.”Yixing’s back with me, and we’re going to a club later. It can be like the old days.”

“You make me sound so old,” Luhan groans out, he’s already made a U-turn, quickly driving in the direction of District Three. “Where’s this place located?”

“You know that lounge you got banned from when you were 18,” Junmyeon asks, when Luhan responds with a yeah Junmyeon continues. “It’s located there. Apparently a new person bought it out and changed it into a restaurant. It’s a really swanky place.”

“Swanky,” Luhan repeats. “What type of words are the dinosaurs at CNS teaching you. I’ve never heard that word before grandpa.”

“Don’t worry,” Junmyeon says. “It’s okay for you Capital kids to be a bit behind on things. Swanky is the new it word.”

“It wasn’t an _it_ word even when my great-grandfather was alive,” Luhan teases.

Junmyeon is about the same height as Kyungsoo but he’s older than Luhan’s manager. He was born a year after Luhan and lucked up enough to get the second, more stable, Perfection gene. Junmyeon dressed like new money, he made it a point to always wear luxury brands, from his clothes to his jewelry. Despite the flashy attire Junmyeon was as old money as it could get.

Rumor had it that his family used to be arm dealers during the war; they never chose a side just provided the weapons and ammunition for those fighting. When Caelum was created, they had thrown a lot of money to the government in order to stay in their position above the clouds. Junmyeon’s family were powerful, they were right under the Great Ruler when it came to power.

Yixing too, another close family friend of Luhan’s, came from a wealthy and powerful family. The four of them, Junmyeon, Yixing, Kyungsoo, and Luhan had all lived in the same neighborhood. While Luhan and Kyungsoo went into the world of entertainment, Yixing and Junmyeon joined National Security.

********

“Kyungsoo’s not here,” Luhan asks, sitting down across from Junmyeon. He can spot a waiter slowly walking over to them from behind Junmyeon.

“We’re having dinner at his place tomorrow,” Junmyeon says. He doesn’t continue and Luhan doesn’t bother asking for details, Junmyeon will probably fill him in later anyway. When the waiter approaches Luhan asks for water, while Junmyeon gets an expensive bottle of wine.

“I don’t have a menu,” Luhan notices after the waiter has disappeared. “What’s nice to eat here?”

“I already ordered for us,” Junmyeon tells him. “I figured since you’ve never been out of the Capital you wouldn’t know what’s good and what isn’t.”

“I’ve been to Asaea,” Luhan tells him, “and I was in the desert yesterday.”

“Well next time we can go to a place that specializes in desert food,” Junmyeon teases. The waiter returns a second later with their drinks and promises to have their food ready in 15 minutes. Luhan waits till the waiter’s gone before taking out his new bottle of pills, shaking it so that a pale blue capsule falls onto his palm. “What’s that,” Junmyeon asks, watching as Luhan swallows down one of the pills.

“Vitamin,” Luhan answers passing the bottle over to Junmyeon. “It helps us First Gens keep up with you guys.” He watches as Junmyeon turns the bottle around in his fingers, before opening it and taking out a capsule.

“What happens if a next Gen takes one of these,” Junmyeon asks. He’s twirling the pill around examining that also.

“Don’t know,” Luhan shrugs, taking another sip of his water, “It’s probably like drinking a cup of coffee or something. The pills I take don’t normally do much of what they’re supposed to.”

“We should give it to Yixing,” Junmyeon suggests. He laughs a little when he sees Luhan glare, and pops the pill in his mouth, swallowing it dry.

Luhan frowns a little at the action, “I don’t know if that was just pure stupidity or your fearlessness, kicking in. This isn’t like last time, I have no idea how bad the side effects are, if something happens you’re on your own. ”

Junmyeon flashes a smile full of straight white teeth and takes a sip of his wine. “I’ll be fine,” he reassures Luhan.

********

The pill is like a shot of caffeine straight to the veins for next generation Perfects. After their nice dinner, Luhan feels more awake, but Junmyeon he’s nearly bouncing off the walls. Luhan’s tempted to ditch him but it was Luhan’s pill he took and he wouldn’t be much of a friend if he abandoned Junmyeon just because he was a little too hyper. A night on the dance floor could probably help the younger deal with the excess energy anyway.

When they enter the club, Luhan heads to the VIP section while Junmyeon wanders off to the dance floor. Yixing’s not hard to spot, Yixing always seemed to stand out when he was amongst people, his father was similar to Junmyeon’s, as in he was somewhat of an advisor to the Great Ruler. Caelum as a large country was hard to rule, and since the Great Ruler worked in the shadows he needed just as great representation to be his face. Yixing’s father was one of those representatives, and his son was the flirty sweetheart of the National Security team.

Luhan’s been surrounded by influence since he was twelve, and it intimidated him rather than anything else.

Yixing notices him as he approaches and the younger male stands up, a grin on his lips. Luhan hugs him tightly, before taking a seat beside the younger.

“Where’s Jun,” Yixing asks, looking behind Luhan for their missing friend.

“Dance floor,” Luhan answers, “he needs to work off his excess energy.” Luhan grabs Yixing’s drink off the table and takes a sip from the straw.

“Excess energy,” Yixing repeats to himself, frowning a bit as Luhan blatantly steals his drink. “Did he have coffee or something?”

“I’ve got a new pill,” Luhan says, “It helps me keep up with you guys, but apparently it makes you overly energetic.”  He watches as Yixing thinks about his words before it clicks in his head. The younger looks towards the dance floor as if he can see through the hordes of people to where Junmyeon lies.

“Well at least he’s having fun,” Yixing says, taking his drink away from Luhan. “Hey,” he calls out, eyes shining with untamed curiosity underneath the Technicolor club lights. “What happens when you mix your pills with alcohol?”

Luhan shrugs his shoulders a little, letting his eyes stray around the room, looking from patron to patron while he sits back on the leather couch. “Junmyeon’s had half a bottle of wine and it still hasn’t hindered him. I’m not sure what it’ll do to normal people though.”

Luhan hadn’t spent a night out on the city with the younger two in years. The moment they’d gotten accepted into National Security, they left the Capital for training. The pair came back occasionally but never long enough to spend a night out drinking and partying until the early morning.

With so much time lost between them Luhan had forgotten two major important facts, one of which being that Yixing was a light weight.  Taking shots was not something he could do well, after only a few his face would get flush and he’d eventually stop. Junmyeon on the other hand was a monster, he had a separate stomach and liver for the amount of alcohol he could intake.

He was a short, petite man, but his tolerance was in a league of its own, not even Luhan had such a tolerance, and alcohol was slowly becoming water to him.

Just like old times Yixing leaves them first, he drinks, spends his time on the dance floor, and abandons them to go home with a pretty girl that can’t be bothered to take her eyes off the youngest male.

********

“Do you think your physician gets her pills off the black market,” Junmyeon asks, words slightly slurred. The time’s 4:15 in the morning and the pair of them are in district four, eating Ice-cream in a tiny little shop near Jongin and Sehun’s place. The yellow glow of the light hurts Luhan’s eyes, and his Strawberry ice-cream is slowly melting into a sugary cold goo.

“Are you trying to build a case against my physician,” Luhan asks. They’re sitting in a booth near the window, the table an ugly pale pink, and the chairs are red and made of uncomfortable cushion. The floors have a glossy glow against the black and white tiles, and Luhan’s pretty sure that it shows dirt easy.

“It’s pre-war décor,” Junmyeon tells him, when he notices Luhan’s look of disdain directed towards the red and silver barstools near the counter. “Like from the 19 hundreds.”

“I don’t care,” Luhan huffs a bit. “These seats are just uncomfortable. Anyway, my physician is giving me medicine you guys give her. If anything she’s supplying the black market instead of buying from them. She’d make more of a profit that way.”

“True,” Junmyeon says, humming thoughtfully. “Lu, Kyungsoo told me President Kim put a restriction on who you’re allowed to date.”

“It has to be a real relationship,” Luhan grimaces. “I wonder what he considers a real relationship.”

“Maybe he’s looking for your spouse,” Junmyeon suggests. “You are at the age to get married.”

“President Kim and I don’t have that kind of relationship,” Luhan replies. “I’m still low class to him. I’m allowed to choose my own spouse.”

“Then that must be what he wants,” Junmyeon says. “Find a girl that you can settled down with, but lets you still play around.”

“Because that went oh so well for you,” Luhan retorts, he’s swirling his spoon in the bowl now. “Your fiancée left you.”

“She only cared about herself,” Junmyeon says. “It was my mistake for agreeing to be with her. She was only pretending to be cool with things. What you need though, is someone that is willing to cater to you when you need it, but knows to give you space as well."

“So like a live-in brothel worker,” Luhan asks drily. “There is no woman in the world that’s like that.”

“That could work,” Junmyeon suggests. “The brothel idea. You could get like someone from District Seven or something. Someone with nothing going for them.”

“I’d rather not,” Luhan interrupts. “I don’t want some random person in my apartment and it won’t work, she’s still human, she’d still have feelings. “ He suppresses a tired sigh and lets his eyes roam around the empty room. “I’d rather not complicate things any more than they are.”

Junmyeon frowns, and a silence takes over the store as they sit there each attempting to finish their ice cream.

“I’ll tell you what,” Junmyeon says, dropping the spoon into his dessert. “There’s this new serum coming out in a year or two for First Gen.”

“So something to kill us off completely,” Luhan says. When the repaired Perfection gene came about, First Gen Perfects attempted to take it to fix their remaining flaws, but it conflicted with the previous Perfect Gene and caused organ failure and eventually death amongst many.

“No,” Junmyeon says. “It’s not going to kill you. We’re trying to make something that works with your already existing gene. It’s going to fix the things that your gene wasn’t able to.” Luhan opens his mouth readying a less than nice retort before deciding against it. There’s no use attacking a friend that’s just trying to help, just because he doubted it would help.

********

Luhan looks at himself in his mirror, thin fingers prodding at the bags underneath his eyes. It’s 8:15 in the morning, the city is awake once more and Luhan hasn’t slept.

His hair is damp from his shower and the wet droplets of water are falling off the strands and seeping through his top. In front of him on the top of his dresser, sits open makeup and he dips the pads of his fingers into the skin tone liquid. He messily applies the makeup to the dark circles, watching as they ease away underneath his fingertips. Minutes later, the tired gleam in his eyes is the only thing that shows his sleep deprivation.

It takes an hour for a perfect to get prepared for the day.

Perfect Mind +Perfect Body +Perfect Appearance=True Perfection

It takes longer for a model to get ready, to be a model in a Perfect world you have to be more perfect than perfect. On days when one may just want to wear sweats and not do anything to your hair, it was impossible. A normal Perfect could get away with wearing a trash bag, it was the Perfect gene that made them still keep their head high. That allowed them to move with an elegance only a Perfect possessed.

A model, an entertainer, or any kind of celebrity was not granted that same kind of negligence. They weren’t only models of clothing, but also models of the Perfect Gene. They existed solely to show what the Perfection gene could do and that meant them needing to be more perfect than the rest of the population. It wasn’t an easy feat for most.

********

Luhan will never admit it, but he held a deep fear of heights. It wasn’t just the fear of heights that kept him from looking down while he rode Nessen’s glass elevator to the top floor. Acrophobia, the fear of heights, was a fear that Luhan held all his life.  It wasn’t as bad as it could be, there were no panic attacks, or shortness of breaths, just mild easily ignorable dizziness. It was hard to not look down when he was standing inside of a see-through elevator and all he could feel was himself being lifted floor after floor.

Minseok has a headset on when Luhan sees him, his eyes are concentrated on his computer screen and he’s talking to someone. Luhan walks over to his desk, leaning against it as he does his best to wait patiently. When Minseok ends the video call he glances over to Luhan and gives the male a smile.

“For a popular model, you sure spend a lot of time here,” Minseok teases.

“If your boss answered my calls I wouldn’t have to come in just to report to him,” Luhan retorts. He leans forward, attempting to peer at Minseok’s computer in mild curiosity. “It’s good to see he finally brought you into the future.”

“President Kim hates video calls,” Minseok tells him.

“Makes it hard for him to pretend like he gives a damn, right,” Luhan asks, crossing his arms under him a little.

“For someone that owes their whole career to that man you really don’t seem all that fond of him,’ Minseok observes.

“Are you fond of him,” Luhan asks, “The guy that probably forgot your name after the first hour and yells at you when you weren’t even the one to screw up?”

“I’m thankful,” Minseok says. “He gave me this job so I’ll be forever thankful towards him even if he gets irrationally angry at me and can never remember my name.”

“It’s not that he can’t remember your name,” Luhan explains to Minseok. “It’s just that he doesn’t bother to try. You and I don’t share the same sentiments however. I never wanted to model. This isn’t something I do because I want to, it’s something I do because I’m obligated.”

Luhan can see the way Minseok’s eyes drop, and how the male’s Adam’s apple bobs as if he’s trying to think of something to say after Luhan’s unexpected confession. “Minseok,” he calls out, softly trying to ease the unwanted tension, a tense smile spread on his lips. Luhan has a knack for making people uncomfortable without even trying, but it’s not exactly something he’s fond of. Minseok looks up to him in expectance and Luhan continues. “Can I go see President Kim?” Minseok gives a silent nod of his head and Luhan frowns just a bit. He stands straight and walks pass the desk.

President Kim’s personal office is just as intimidating as he is. It’s not a Perfect thing, it’s a President Kim thing. Kris’s office had both personal and company awards lining the walls and on his desk were the obligatory picture frames. One had Kris’ mother, another had Luhan and himself, and other pictures from a simpler time in Kris’s life.

President Kim had nothing on his walls, awards were placed on an award shelf near Minseok’s desk, and nothing but paperwork lined President Kim’s desk. The room was completely white and spacious. It was vast and that in itself was intimidating. Luhan’s pretty sure he’s the only one that finds it that way.

“How was the photo shoot,” Luhan hears just as he settles himself in one of the leather cushioned seats across from President Kim. The man isn’t looking at him, but Luhan’s used to it, President Kim barely ever looks up from his work unless he wants to glare or threaten Luhan. “You did leave a better impression right?”

“Everything went smoothly,” Luhan says, voice strained as he taps softly against the chair’s armrest. “They loved me, said they couldn’t wait to work on more shoots with your models.”

“Don’t do something like that again,” President Kim tells him. “I’d rather not lose business partners because my agency’s top model is off getting drunk and sleeping with strangers the night before important shoots.”

“Are you telling me I can’t go out now,” Luhan asks, voice shaking just the slightest from the anger he can already feel coursing through his blood.

“I’m telling you to cut back on the time you spend going out and focus more on your career,” President Kim tells him, voice cold and nonchalant as it always is. He looks up at that. President Kim knows he’s a first generation Perfect, and knows that Luhan can still feel fear, so he always uses it to his advantage. “You either cut back or I hire someone to make sure you don’t go out at all, child.”

 Luhan glares at the man in front of him, as he angrily clenches his fists in his lap. “I’ll cut back,” Luhan says softly, his words forced.

“Good,” President Kim replies. He drops his gaze from Luhan and waves his wrist a little. “You’re dismissed.” Petulantly, Luhan leaves the office, slamming the door shut as he does so. He’s glaring into nothing, his thoughts race after suppressing his words, and only feels an ease of tension when a soft cough sounds through the room.

He turns his head to look at Minseok. The boy is watching him with concern apparent in his eyes. “Are you okay,” Minseok asks.

Luhan bites his bottom lip, eyes looking to the ceiling as if he’s thinking about the question.  “Noon’s approaching,” He says a second later.  Minseok’s eyes quickly look to the digital clock on his desk before his gaze returns to Luhan.

“Yes,” he confirms. “It’s five minutes till noon.”

“Have lunch with me then,” Luhan suggests. He moves away from President Kim’s door and heads back over to Minseok. “Please,” he adds as an afterthought. He releases his lip from his teeth and smiles in what he hopes is a friendly non-threatening manner as he gazes at Minseok.

Minseok looks at him before letting out an airy little laugh as if finding Luhan’s proposal ridiculous. “Okay,” he says. He leans forward and presses the white button on the intercom. “President Kim, I’m going to lunch in five.” He leans back, and Luhan just stares at the speaker for a second almost expecting President Kim to deny him.

“He’s not going to say no,” Minseok says with a laugh.

“Do you think he monitors what you say and do through that,” Luhan asks.

“Probably,” Minseok shrugs. “Maybe he has people that do that. President Kim doesn’t seem like the type to do such a mundane task as that. Either way, I still have my job so if he is doing it, he doesn’t really care what I say.” He stands then a small grin on his lips as he slips pass his desk in Luhan.

“Shouldn’t you grab you’re jacket,” Luhan asks. “It’s cold out.”

“It’s always cold out,” Minseok retorts. “We’re not going out.”

“Then where are we going,” Luhan asks, standing beside Minseok as they await the elevator. “I asked you out to lunch.”

“We’re going to lunch,” Minseok tells him. “There’s a cafeteria inside the building. It’s pretty good and we don’t have to waste time driving to some random restaurant.” The elevator makes a dinging sound as it stops on their floor and the pair slip inside. Luhan watches as Minseok presses the button to the ground floor, and resigns himself to staring at the secretary, so he doesn’t get too dizzy.

“I wasn’t aware there was a cafeteria here,” Luhan says. Minseok’s shorter than him, not by a lot. Luhan thinks it’s a nice height difference. His dress shirt is tight on his upper body, especially on his arms, and even with the slightly loose slacks it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that despite Minseok having a baby face, his body is that of a man’s.

“What are you looking at,” Minseok asks, and Luhan quickly brings his gaze back up to the boy’s face. Minseok’s eyebrows are slightly raised and he’s got a smirk on his lips.

“Nothing,” Luhan lies, just as the elevator dings once more. He exits the elevator first only to pause and frown slightly at Minseok. “Where are we going?”

“Follow me,” Minseok commands, smirk still on his lips as he moves pass Luhan and turns left. Luhan does so silently and follows the older male.

“Order for me,” Luhan says when he enters the cafeteria behind Minseok. There are different places to get different food and the eyes of the workers linger on him as he stands near the entrance. He feels overwhelmed and slightly put off within the unfamiliar place.

“I don’t know what you like,” Minseok says softly.

Luhan continues to let his eyes roam the expansion of the room. White must be the President’s favorite color, because the cafeteria is a sterile white that doesn’t seem appropriate for a place of eating. “Anything will do,” he says. “You get the food, and I’ll find us seats.”

“Okay,” Minseok mutters reluctantly. He walks away just as Luhan begins fishing out his card to pay for his meal, and Luhan frowns after him, the sound of the boy’s dress shoes squeaking against the cafeteria’s tile.

Luhan finds a table in the middle of the room, closer to the exit, but not as close that it’s obvious that he wants to leave. Luhan takes another glance around the room before watching Minseok’s back. The boy is relaying his order to the life-like robot behind the counter. Luhan grimaces a bit, praying that the ones making the food are anything but metal contraptions with circuit wiring and artificial intelligence powering them.

Minseok struggles slightly with the tray of food and Luhan feels mildly bad about leaving him on his own to gather both of their meals.

“Sorry,” Minseok says, as he puts the food down on the table and sits across from Luhan. “If I had known you’d be uncomfortable, I would have never dragged you here.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Luhan lies. Minseok stares him in the eyes and Luhan stares back unwavering.

“Okay,” Minseok says a moment later, dropping his gaze to the food. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got us food to share if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine,” Luhan says, watching as Minseok takes the containers off the tray and sets it in the middle of them. “How much did it cost? I’ll pay half.”

“No need,” Minseok answers, handing him chopsticks. “I used the company’s card.”

For whatever reason Luhan grins a little at Minseok’s confession, and as they begin eating, a comfortable silence cloaks them.

“I heard something really interesting from Kai and Sehun.”

“Hmm,” Minseok hums looking up from the food to Luhan.

“You wanted to be a barista?”

Minseok grins at the question a small laugh slipping pass his lips, “I’m not an android,” he says.

“That’s good to know,” Luhan says a small grin of his own on his lips. Minseok looked nothing like the eerie human-like androids that normally worked at coffee shops and cafés.  Luhan would be lying if he said that he didn’t harbor a mild dislike for the robots. They had a cold artificial glow in their eyes, and their skin, despite being smooth to the touch, wasn’t anything like human skin.  Androids were like caricatures of humans, they only had one purpose in life which was previously programmed into them and they did their jobs perfectly, their powerful artificial intelligence allowing for no mistake.

“It’s not a real dream,” Minseok tells him. “I’m just not too fond of the androids that currently do the job. It feels too impersonal in my opinion. Besides androids are just…” he trails off at that, eyes staring at the table as he tries to find a good argument against the mechanical people. “I don’t like them,” he says a moment later, nose scrunching up cutely to express his dislike.

“Neither do I,” Luhan tells him. When Minseok smiles at him, Luhan can’t help but grin back. “Why aren’t you a model? Why are you a secretary?”

“Do you think I could be a model,” Minseok asks. The way Minseok asks it, it isn’t like how normal people ask the question. Normally people take on a surprise and disbelieving tone, Minseok’s tone is similar to the one he used in the elevator when he caught Luhan staring. It’s confident and playful. He’s obviously aware of Luhan’s interest

“Yes,” Luhan answers. “You’re good-looking, and your face is really unique. You’d be loved.”

“Thanks,” Minseok says. “But I don’t really like having so much attention directed my way. Besides I like consistency and office jobs are best at providing that.”

They talk more about nonsensical topics, mostly about entertainment. That’s everyone’s go to topic and even though Luhan doesn’t watch too much television or listen to the radio often, he’s part of the entertainment world so it’s still pretty easy to talk about the music and shows Minseok likes.

Eventually Minseok glances at his watch and Luhan figures that it time for him to get back to work. “You can go first,” Luhan tells him. “I’ll clean up everything.”

“You don’t have a schedule,” Minseok asks. They stand together and Luhan gathers the empty food containers onto the tray.

“No,” Luhan answers. “Kai and Sehun have joint shoots. I think I’m heading towards my expiration date. I haven’t had much work recently.” Minseok follows him to throw their things out.

“Isn’t that normal though,” Minseok asks. “Kai said you go through periods where you have little work, and periods where you have a lot.”

Luhan frowns a bit, but nods his head. “Kai’s right I guess. But I’ve been around since I was a teen. There’s not many years left in my career.”

“Well when your modeling days are over, we can open a coffee shop together since you hate androids as much as I do.”

It’s a joke and Luhan can tell but he can’t stop himself from smiling. “We should do it.” They bid goodbye with promises to eat lunch together again sometime soon.


	8. Chapter Seven

There’s tension heavy in the evening air. Everyone’s a bit on edge and Luhan’s more than sure it shows in their performance. Luhan can hear the tired annoyed edge to the photographer’s tone, and he can see the pissed off glint in Kyungsoo’s eyes, and he almost feels sorry for Kai and Sehun.

Sehun and Kai are the cause of the tension. They’re fighting, which means there’s a bunch of cold shoulders and glares in between the smiling and poised photographs. The two rarely fight, but when they do, it’s just as bratty and tiresome as two school children fighting. They’re doing individual shots at the moment, Kai has already done his, and Sehun is currently doing his own while Kai glares at him behind the photographer.

Luhan, happy to be away from the two, is settled in a dressing room chair. His neck aches slightly as the makeup artist twists and turns his head in her hands, and a tiny scowl is set on both his and her face.

He hears a chair squeak just as the makeup artist lets go of his head, and he moves pass her to get near Kyungsoo.

“I’ve been thinking,” Kyungsoo starts quietly, the hesitance in his words is as clear as daylight. “Maybe… I want to leave.”

“Take a walk then,” Luhan tells him with a frown. “I’ll stop Kai and Sehun from killing each other if that’s what you’re concerned about. You don’t have to watch us 24/7 Kyungsoo, we’re adults.”

“I didn’t mean take a walk,” Kyungsoo says. “Nor do I want to go on vacation or whatever. I meant, I’ve been thinking about leaving the Capital…for good.”

Luhan reacts before he can think better of it and his lips set into a tight frown as he stares with narrowed eyes at Kyungsoo. “Are you serious? What brought this up?”

“I figured that it’s not too late for me to see the rest of Caelum. So many people say it’s a beautiful country but all I’ve ever seen were the cold buildings of this city. There are more places like Asaea, you know, places built around nature.”

“So Junmyeon put this in your head,” Luhan asks with a frown. He doesn’t need the younger boy to explain, he can already hear the words as if Junmyeon had spoken them. Junmyeon and Kyungsoo were close, Luhan didn’t know the exact depth of their relationship and he didn’t care to find out.

He finds himself turning away from Kyungsoo and crossing his arms over his chest. The frown on his face is as close to a pout he’ll ever get, and even though he feels like a child, it’s in his right to be angry, or so he believes. “You want to be a part of the Junmyeon and Yixing show that badly?”

“Junmyeon did suggest it,” Kyungsoo says, voice as neutral as possible. The bleak emotionless state of Kyungsoo’s voice pisses him off even more.

_He shouldn’t be doing that,_ Luhan can’t help but think. Kyungsoo wasn’t being interrogated by a warlord. He was being talked to by someone who considered him a friend and him and his stupid mask could go to hell for all Luhan cared.

“I don’t have to go with them. I just think it’ll be good to leave. There’s more to life than just living in dying in the Capital.”

Luhan bites on his bottom lip, and Kyungsoo peers at him.

“Lu,” Kyungsoo starts, his voice is softer now, but it’s still blank and leaves Luhan confused as to what the younger boy’s intentions are just from calling his name.

“Okay,” Luhan says with a resigned sigh. “I’ve been doing this since I was fifteen, I’ll self-manage myself, and I’m sure you can find a decent manager for Sehun and Kai. Speaking of Kai, if he really means that little to you then don’t even bother telling him. He doesn’t need to know that his feelings are completely one-sided.”

“I wasn’t planning to leave tonight,” Kyungsoo tells him, as Luhan begins to stand. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Don’t hold yourself back,” Luhan says coldly, his mask isn’t as strong as Kyungsoo’s he can’t hide his emotions completely and as he tries to, for the sake of sounding nonchalant he feels more disgust with himself than anything else. “Think through your options,” he continues softly, reflecting and thinking through his final words. “You’re not destined to die in this city like some of us, and if I were in your shoes I’d flee as fast as I could.”

********

Luhan takes his time removing the excess makeup from his face. He’s the last one to leave, and once he’s done taking the makeup off he’s applying new makeup, simple makeup that covered the imperfections of his face.

He leaves when he’s positive that Kyungsoo isn’t outside waiting for him, and calls for a taxi as he exits the empty building. Luhan sees a tall figure standing against the building a bit far from the entrance. Luhan finds himself approaching the figure, whose eyes are downturned as he plays with his cellphone.

“Hey,” Luhan calls out, making the guy lift his head and turn towards him. Luhan gives a tiny fond grin as he walks hurriedly towards the boy in front of him.

“What are you doing out here,” Luhan asks, he touches Kai’s cheek with the back of his bare hands and frowns then. “You’re cold, Jongin.”

“I’ll survive,” Kai tells him, brushing his hands away. “I waited for you. You’re upset with Kyungsoo-hyung and I’m mad at Sehun.”

“So you want to hang out tonight,” Luhan asks.

“We haven’t done that before,” Kai states.

“Because you and Sehun are like babies to me,” Luhan tells him, reaching up to affectionately ruffle Kai’s hair.

“It’s only been three years,” Kai mutters, moving out of Luhan’s reach as he heads towards the yellow taxi now waiting for them.

“Three years is close to a lifetime when you’re in the modeling business,” Luhan tells him. He pauses as he walks in looks up towards the sky, nose wrinkling just slightly. “It’s going to rain,” he mutters. Kai looks up then, eyes trained to the sky as if he’s looking for a sign himself.

“I can’t tell,” he mutters.

“You’re old enough to go out right,” Luhan asks, as he gets inside the vehicle.

“I’m legal,” Kai responds, as Luhan says the name of a club in District Three to the driver. “Hyung, why are you upset with Kyungsoo-hyung?”

“I can’t tell you,” Luhan says. “It’ll break your heart, and I’d rather not get in the middle of it.” He wrinkles his nose once more. “I don’t like getting in between love problems, they’re the messiest.”

“Will Kyungsoo-hyung treat me like how you treat Sehun,” Kai asks. “He hasn’t yet, so I figured that maybe there was a chance.”

“How do I treat Sehun,” Luhan asks with a frown, ignoring the question directed at him while throwing an inquisitive glance towards Kai.

“Like a child,” Kai answers. “Like his feelings aren’t real. You completely shut him down at nearly any chance you can get.”

“He is a child to me,” Luhan tells him. “You both are. You’re like younger brothers and I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“You don’t have to worry about Sehun anymore,” Kai says, his fingers lift to touch at the glass of the taxi’s cab window. It has started to rain, Kai’s tapping against the window like a distracted child and Luhan leans back farther in his seat. “He’s seeing someone. He won’t admit it but he came home at dawn smelling like cheap ladies' perfume.”

Luhan thinks over his words, and nods his head. “I can see why you’re upset. Your relationship with each other is closer than anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Apparently it’s not as close as it seems,” Kai mutters. The cab slows down, and Luhan grabs his card out of his pocket and hands it to the driver. “You won’t abandon me in there will you?”

“No,” Luhan says, eyes glancing towards the club. “It’s not war though Jongin. You’re a decent dancer, and you’re good-looking. You’ll probably end up abandoning me.”

No one abandons anyone. Luhan does stumble into his apartment with a highly intoxicated Kai close to dawn. Luhan helps Kai fumble his way out of his drenched clothing and then allows the boy to fall into the fluffy sheets of the bed, damp hair wetting one of his pillows.

“I’m such a good person,” Luhan mutters drily. His phone starts to ring and Luhan fishes it out of his pants pocket, muttering a sleepy, hello, without checking to see who’s calling.

“Hello,” the deep tired voice of Oh Sehun says. “Luhan have you seen Jongin? I’ve been calling him for hours and he hasn’t picked up. He said…”

“He’s here with me,” Luhan says interrupting Sehun, fingers reaching up to massage the bridge of his nose.

“Where is here,” Sehun asks with a soft groan. “Will he be back anytime soon?”

“He’s at my apartment Sehun,” Luhan tells him, “and he’ll probably be back as soon as he wakes up, it mostly depends on how much of a hangover he has.” There’s a chilling silence on Sehun’s end and Luhan waits with an annoyed frown for the younger to say something in regards to Luhan’s words, he’s more than sure Sehun’s mind is playing scenario after scenario of what could have transpired between Luhan and Kai.

“Okay,” Sehun says voice cold, and ends the call before Luhan can say anything more. Luhan doesn’t even bother to be upset with Sehun’s reaction. He stands and changes into sweats and a t-shirt before settling on his bed beside Kai, makeup still on.

********

Luhan wakes at the first rays of sunlight warming his face. Arms are thrown around his waist and hair tickles his neck as he struggles with consciousness. It takes him a second to fix his disoriented sleep-clouded memories but when he does he pushes harshly at Kai.

“Jongin, go home,” Luhan huffs out. The boy holding onto him groans softly, and Luhan escapes from his grasp. “Sehun called last night.”

Jongin sits up then, hair disarrayed and sticking up at all ends and honey brown eyes bleary as he rubs at them with the heels of his hand. “What did he say,” he groans out, voice deeper than usual.

“He asked where you were, then possibly assumed the worse when I told him you were with me,” Luhan says. “I’m going to make coffee do you want some?”

“No thanks,” Jongin says. “I’ll just get dressed and leave.”

When Kai’s dressed, he meets Luhan in the kitchen and Luhan forces the younger to sit and eat something before he goes. They’re sitting in silence, Luhan drinking coffee and Kai eating breakfast when Luhan’s main doorbell chimes. He frowns at the sound, and Kai turns to him in confusion.

“You have a doorbell hyung,” Kai asks and Luhan eyes him with mild amusement at the sincerely confused question.

“Yeah,” he says moving over to the panel in the kitchen to check to see who’s ringing his bell. “Kyungsoo normally lets you into the building so you don’t have to use it.” On the fuzzy screen of the panel appears Kim Junmyeon, and Zhang Yixing peering wonderingly into the camera. “What do you want,” Luhan asks, disdain taking over his voice as he speaks into the intercom.

“Let us up,” Junmyeon commands.

“I can’t I have a visitor,” Luhan retorts. “Go away.” Junmyeon’s lips pull into an obvious frown and Luhan raises an eyebrow as if the younger male can see it.

“Come on Lu,” Yixing says taking over, voice soothingly gentle. “Let us in. Junmyeon and I both need to talk to you about what happened with Kyungsoo.”

“Fine,” Luhan huffs, he presses a red button to allow them in and turns swiftly towards Kai. “Looks like you get to meet the people that caused my fight with Kyungsoo.”

“The fight that will break my heart,” Jongin asks.

“Yeah,” Luhan says picking up his lukewarm coffee off the kitchen counter and chugging it down in huge gulps. “They’re the ones that want to take your Kyungsoo-hyung away.” He turns and gets more coffee as the sound of his apartment creaks open.

“Luhan,” Yixing calls out, but Luhan doesn’t bother to answer him. They enter the kitchen as Luhan settles down beside Kai. “Kai, meet Zhang Yixing, and Kim Junmyeon, they work for National Security.”

Kai smiles in a friendly manner towards the two boys before turning towards Luhan. “I should probably go. Thanks for letting me spend the night.”

“Did you sleep with him,” Junmyeon asks as soon as Kai’s out of the room. “I really hope you didn’t sleep with him to spite Kyungsoo.”

“Why does it matter it’s not like Kyungsoo cares.”

“Luhan don’t take your anger out on Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon tells him. “It’s my fault. He asked about the travels and he seemed really interested in. I told him he should come with us for a bit just to see how it is. He didn’t want to and I honestly didn’t think he’d change his mind.”

Luhan frowns slightly, eyes running along his smooth polished wooden table as he gathers his thoughts while taking slow deep breaths.

“Okay,” he says a moment later, voice mirroring Sehun’s from the phone. “I told him before didn’t I, that he could leave if he wants to? Do I just seem that petty or am I just untrustworthy?”

Yixing like always is the first to react. He moves forward and places a hand on Luhan’s shoulder while sitting down beside him. “It’s not that,” he tells Luhan fingers rubbing soothing circles into Luhan’s shoulders. “We just don’t want you to hate us, Luhan. We’re childhood friends; we shouldn’t let something as small as this get in between us. We love you.”

Luhan grins despite himself, and leans into Yixing. “I love you too,” he states.

The pair stay past their welcome,  but Luhan never kicks them out, he has no desire to be alone and Yixing and Junmyeon were both entertaining in their own way.

“Why do you read books like these,” Junmyeon asks picking up a brown hardcover book with yellowing pages. The binding barely glued together and the edges of the book pages were folded and dog-eared. It’s a psychology book, in anthropology on various mental disorders. “You know they only exist to make you feel grateful that you were born a Perfect.”

“I know,” Luhan says taking the book out of Junmyeon’s hands. “They’re just nice to read.”

“They’re blatant propaganda,” Junmyeon tells him. “I’m surprised that you of all people would have books like these.”

“We all have the things we choose to hang onto,” Luhan states defensively. He heads to his bedroom and places the book on the end table. He huffs slightly and runs his hands through his hair smoothing it down a bit. He hasn’t taken a shower since the day before and just the thought of the layer of grime sticking to his skin makes his frown deepen as a feeling of open disgust runs through his body.

Yixing peeks his head into the room, eyes looking around cautiously before finally meeting Luhan’s. “Junmyeon just left,” the younger male tells him. “He went…to…do something,” Yixing continues. “He didn’t tell me.”

“I don’t understand your relationship,” Luhan says, throwing the younger male a pitying glance.

“Neither do I,” Yixing retorts, a small laugh bubbling in his throat. “You know we really didn’t come back just to kidnap Kyungsoo right?”

“I know,” Luhan says. He pauses again, the feelings he does his best to suppress begins to bubble up once more. He bites his lip in thought, before he’s reminded that he’s talking to Yixing, and Yixing is understanding. He’s perfect, but he understands. “If he leaves. I’ll only have Kris, and Kris is getting married soon.”

“You’ve always hated being alone,” Yixing muses. “You could come with us.”

“I can’t,” Luhan says. “President Kim wouldn’t allow it and… you know how they treat people like me.”

“But you won’t be alone,” Yixing says. “You’ll be with the CNS, that’s worth something.”

“The last of the few First Gen Perfects a part of the CNS was killed three years ago,” Luhan says. “People would think I’m even more of a criminal if I traveled with you.”

Yixing frowns, but he doesn’t speak up again about the topic, he’s not stupid and he knows Luhan’s right so instead he sighs and pulls Luhan with him to the older boy’s bed. “I have something more interesting to talk about.”

“Like what,” Luhan asks, lifting his eyebrows slightly as he makes himself comfortable on his bed, accidentally kicking Yixing’s side in the process.

 “Junmyeon says your kind president forced you to live alone.”

“He’s not fond of the traffic that tended to circle around my apartment,” Luhan says.

“You always did throw the best parties,” Yixing replies. He sits on Luhan’s bed and turns to face the older male directly. “Kris told me you’re interested in President Kim’s new secretary though. Are you interested just to get back at President Kim, or are you really interested in him?”

“If I was interested in him to get back at President Kim, I would have done everything I could just to have the most risqué pictures land on his desk.”

“So you’re just interested in him,” Yixing asks, he leans in close to Luhan, fingers underneath his chin and eyes wide in wonder. He looks like an eager child and Luhan can’t help but to grin indulgently at the boy. “Kris says that he’s not even your type, yet you’re still interested in him.”

“You know I don’t stick strictly to a type,” Luhan says. “Also I don’t even know how Kris would know that. He hasn’t met him.”

“Yeah,” Yixing nods, “but when you’re really interested in a person. I mean like seriously interested in a person, that person looks just like the rest of the people you’ve been seriously involved with. Are you really interested in him?”

“If really interested means I want to do more than just sleep with him than I guess you can say that. He’s a pretty interesting person. I think he’s a First Gen.”

“First Gen,” Yixing repeats, furrowing his eyebrows together as he thinks, “I never would have imagined I’d see the day when you of all people would be interested in a First Gen. Will you pursue it?”

“I don’t really have the time to,” Luhan says. “Nor do I really want to, First Gens are all kind of broken creatures.”

“But you will won’t you,” Yixing says.

“I’ll see where it goes from here,” Luhan replies. “I never knew Kris liked to gossip.”

“Kris likes knowing things more than telling things but it’s easy to get underneath his skin to get him to confess all there is to know.”


	9. Chapter Eight

The sky remains dark for three days following Yixing’s and Junmyeon’s visit. Rain falls in intervals of heavy and slow, stopping every now and then for an hour or so. During that time the models and their manager return to work as if nothing has happened.

It’s not a surprise. Kai and Sehun fight and make up quite often, and Luhan has never been the type to hold a grudge against a friend. He couldn’t be angry at someone doing the one thing he wanted more than anything else to do.

On the fourth day the rain stops for more than a few hours, but the clouds, dark and angry, remain shrouding the city barring it of any natural light.

By nightfall the blazing neon lights of the city replaces the missing moon. Luhan finds himself in the more subdue District One after a revision of schedules. He's exiting his entertainment agency when he catches sight of a familiar figure amongst the many strangers heading to start their night.

Luhan rushes forward towards the person walking quickly down the street and when he finally catches up he grabs the male’s arm and grins brightly. “Kim Minseok,” he breathes out. “You walk surprisingly fast.”

Minseok turns around, eyes lighting up with surprise as he stares at Luhan before breathing out his own greeting of hello. The older male has on a knit hat that matches his scarf and gloves, alongside a heavy coat. He’s nearly completely covered from head to toe, and Luhan feels a sense of accomplishment at still being able to identify him in a crowd of people.

“Where are you going,” Luhan asks tilting his head slightly as he pushes his cold hands into the pocket of his coat. Someone pushes harshly into him and Luhan stumbles a few steps forward, moving closer to Minseok in the process.

“Home,” Minseok answers, voice muffled by the scarf over his mouth and nose.

“What District do you live in,” Luhan asks next. He could possibly be prying, but he’s curious and he’s sure that asking about someone’s district is common small talk. He never really interacted with people outside of District One and Two and most people usually announced their district like they were announcing their name.

Minseok’s eyes drop at the question, and that has Luhan wondering if maybe asking about someone’s district was improper etiquette, maybe he was crossing the line of friendly and interested, and entering the territory of creepy stalker. “Eight,” Minseok mumbles so softly that Luhan has to strain to hear him.

“Eight,” Luhan repeats just to make sure. When Minseok nods, Luhan frowns. “How are you going to get there,” he asks, the small frown remains on his lips as he watches Minseok with concerned eyes. “It must cost a fortune.”

“I take the subway,” Minseok answers. Luhan can easily sense that the boy is uncomfortable divulging into his meager background and Luhan can tell that it’s in part due to the fact that everyone knows that his life is shimmery and glamourous.

“The subway,” Luhan says, he does his best to not sound as alarmed as he truly feels and he thinks he’s doing a good job because despite the shame glimmering in Minseok’s brown eyes, he’s not nearly as tense as he was when he stated where he lived. “Isn’t that unsafe Minseok? I was told only Imperfects took the subway.”

“That’s just a rumor they feed to people with drivers,” Minseok says his tone teasing. “Everyone from District Seven to Nine takes the subway if they don’t have cars.”

“You don’t have a car,” Luhan asks. If he doesn’t have a car than that can be quickly remedied. After all working at one of the largest entertainment industries in the country had its perks for all of its workers.

“I don’t have a license,” Minseok retorts.

“Oh,” Luhan says. “Do you want to get coffee with me? I know a place in District Two near my apartment and I can drive you home afterwards. It’ll be cheaper than taking a taxi or using the subway.” Luhan can see the way Minseok’s eyes widen in surprise and even though he can’t see the boy’s lips, he’s more than sure he’s frowning as he tries to find a way to nicely reject Luhan’s offer. “You don’t have to look for a nice way to say no. I won’t hold it against you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Minseok explains softly. “I just don’t want you going out of your way. It’s late.”

“It’s only ten,” Luhan replies. “And if anything, it being _late_ and all, it’s more of a reason for me to take you home.” He doesn’t realize the innuendo until after it leaves his mouth. A shy smile grace his lips as he tries to play coy while Minseok’s demeanor shifts completely. The hesitance and discomfort slips from his face as his eyes light up with unmasked amusement.

“Fine,” Minseok breathes out. “Take me home.” Luhan freezes, his gaze heavy on Minseok’s scarf. He’d wished the cloth wrapped snuggly around the boy’s neck and face was pushed down just a bit so that he could see his lips. That cocky teasing smile Minseok tended to give to Luhan whenever he picked up on the man’s obvious interest, had become something that Luhan enjoyed seeing.

“Okay,” Luhan says a moment later, grabbing Minseok’s soft gloved hand in his own and hailing a taxi.

********

In the coffee shop near Luhan’s home, Minseok settles in a seat beside the large store window overlooking the main street. The layers of his winter clothing hangs off the back of his seat as he gazes out of the window. Luhan’s gives their orders, two regular coffees and a slice of strawberry shortcake he thought looked particularly nice.

The coffee shop is nearly completely empty, save for the androids, a man sitting near the counter, and a young woman staring intently at her cellphone. It’s quiet, save for the low lull of instrumental music. The drinks and cake are placed on the counter and Luhan struggles to balance the things without spilling them.

“For the coffee enthusiast,” Luhan says placing Minseok’s drink in front of him. He places the cake in between them and takes a seat cross from the older boy. “Made 100% accurate, but still lacking one special ingredient.”

“If you say love, I’m leaving and ignoring you for now on,” Minseok teases. Now that Minseok’s face is completely uncovered, Luhan can see the slight crooked grin that crosses the boy’s lips which matches the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“I was going to say the human touch, but loves sounds so much better” Luhan replies playing along, his own smile crossing his lips.

Minseok sends him a playful glare before relaxing his features and taking a sip of his drink. “Do you live here alone,” Minseok asks.

Luhan had just used one of the small forks on the plate to take a bite of out of the cake, only he finds himself looking at Minseok in mild surprise. “In District Two,” Luhan clarifies.

“Yeah,” Minseok says. “I live with my parents in our district.”

“You’re an only child,” Luhan asks causing Minseok to nod. “I am too. I live alone in my apartment, but Kyungsoo also has a place in this district.”

“Do Kyungsoo,” Minseok says, “what’s his secret? Everyone seems pretty intimidated by him.”

“His family is really well off,” Luhan answers, “His mother works at this nation’s largest university as a professor, and his father is, well we’re supposed to say he works for them, but he’s more like one of the heads.”

“Who or what is them,” Minseok asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“The CNS,” Luhan answers. “Kyungsoo’s pretty harmless though, but people tend to fear him due to his parents’ power.”

“Or he just seems harmless because you’ve known him so long,” Minseok says.

“I guess,” Luhan muses. He takes one more bite of the cake before attempting to subtly push it closer to Minseok. “I have a question.”

“Ask away,” Minseok replies, his gaze is focused on the cake slice and if he thinks Luhan’s actions are strange he doesn’t show any hint of it. Instead the boy grabs his own fork and takes a bite.

“Why did you decide to become President Kim’s secretary,” Luhan asks. “I’m sure there were a ton of other jobs out there were you wouldn’t need to face verbal abuse on a day-by-day basis.”

“Don’t you know,” Minseok says, voice soft as he cleans his lips of whipped cream. Luhan’s eyebrows quirk in confusion and Minseok sits up and leans forward conspiringly. Luhan knows he’s not serious, but he leans forward anyway to hear Minseok’s secret. “Nessen’s home to the top entertainment acts,” he stage whispers. Minseok’s breath is warm against Luhan’s ear, and has the boy shivering as if he’s outside in the cold instead of the heated coffee shop.

It’s embarrassing to say the least, being so affected by their close distance and the way Minseok whispers in his ear, but it’s not just Luhan’s attraction having him behave in such a way. President Kim’s rule about who he was allowed to bring home had made him hungry for every touch and brush of affection he could possibly get.

“You wanted to meet celebrities,” Luhan asks in a hushed tone.

Minseok takes a quick glance towards the coffee shop’s counter as if the androids working were listening in and judging their conversation. “Aimee Tran is my mother’s favorite singer. She’s the one that gave me the mission to infiltrate Nessen and get her an autograph.”

Luhan laughs as he sits back in his seat, the sound deafening in the near empty shop, and he almost feels bad for interrupting the rather peaceful ambiance of the place. “Honestly,” he says when the laughter starts to subside. “Why Nessen?”

Minseoks shrugs a bit, “The pay is great, and when it comes to hiring, President Kim’s pretty laxed about the whole thing.”

“He likes people with no experience, so he can whip them into what he wants,” Luhan says.  He then wrinkles his nose in disdain. “Why are we talking about President Kim? Ask me something else?”

 “Okay…hmm… what do you do for fun?”

“What an easy question,” Luhan teases. “I’m sure you know.”

“I’ve heard the rumors,” Minseok admits, his coffee has chilled to a point where it’s easy to drink without being too cold or too hot.

“Or you’ve read the tabloids,” Luhan adds. “I party at clubs, really high-scale clubs in District Three.”

“And sleep,” Minseok asks. “If that’s all you do, it sounds pretty boring.”

“Well,” Luhan says. “The other things I do are even more boring. I’m not a really interesting person.”

“If you weren’t a really interesting person, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you,” Minseok tells him. “We don’t have to talk about that though. Why did you get cake if you weren’t going to eat it?”

“Because you seem like the type to like sweets,” Luhan says. “I think it’s nice,” he muses, “sitting inside places like this in the middle of the night, eating sweets and talking while everyone else is sleeping.”

“You’re nocturnal,” Minseok says.

“What does that mean,” Luhan asks tilting his head in confusion. His lips move as he silently repeats the word, slowly letting it seep into his memory.

“Nocturnal,” Minseok asks his voice softer this time around.  He fidgets restlessly in his seat, as he thinks of what to say while Luhan stares on patiently. “Uh well that means, that you do things at night. Most people are productive during the day, but nocturnal people are more productive and awake during the night.”

“That sounds about right,” Luhan says nodding. “It sounds a lot more interesting than all the other things I’ve called myself.”

********

They leave the coffee shop once the cake’s done, their coffees are finished and conversations hit a staggering point. “You’re not taking me home,” Minseok says, eyes straying to the largest skyscraper near District Two which displayed the Capital’s time. “It’s too late.”

“Let me pay for your taxi then,” Luhan suggests, when Minseok turns to look at him in question he gives a small smile. “For keeping you out so late, I should be the one paying your fare to return home.”

“I thought you’d put up more of a protest to be honest,” Minseok admits, but he doesn’t sound disappointed.

“In normal circumstances I would invite you back to my house since it’s so late, but I’m not technically allowed to have just anyone over.”

“Well I guess that’s good to know,” Minseok says, puffing his cheeks just the tiniest bit before giving Luhan a small smile. “I probably would have rejected the offer anyway.”

Luhan pays the taxi cab driver using his card, the cost from District Two to Eight is still pretty steep, but it doesn’t really bother Luhan. He steps aside once his card’s returned and he’s said goodbye to Minseok. Like a child, Luhan watches the car drive off while waving till it’s out of sight.

There he was in the middle of the street, midnight approaching fast, subtly rejected, alone, and cold, yet a large grin covered 1/3 of his face. He heads towards his apartment when the cold begins to make his fingers stiff. Internally, he’s laughing at himself. He’d become beguiled by Kim Minseok extremely fast. Not in his usual way, Minseok was slowly charming his way into Luhan’s heart with his gummy smiles and hidden wit.

Luhan’s never been one to really pursue a person before. Yeah he’d been the first to express his interest numerous of times, but there was never a pursuit on his part. All his past lovers had easily reciprocated his feelings with little to no persuasion. Luhan knew that Minseok was different, he would more than likely be the one doing most of the work if he were to pursue anything with Minseok.

He stops thinking then about the shorter male, deciding that he’d continue with what he’d been doing so far. He didn’t really want to be too aggressive in his pursuit for the boy’s affections, since there was a part of him that still wasn’t sure how much of what he felt for Minseok was attraction.


	10. Chapter Nine

Sunlight shines through the windows of the vast cinderblock studio as the technical workers set up. Dark sunglasses rest high on the bridge of Luhan’s nose, as he enters the renovated building. Large metal pillars reach from the smooth floor to the metal lined in complex designs across the ceiling. They’re in District Nine, the factory district, the last stop before the Red Light District when taking the subway.

The place is huge even with half of it leading towards a maze like corridor that houses dressing rooms and conference rooms. He’s not there to work, he’s there to mentor, to watch over the two models within his group as they work with two females from a different, lesser known company from somewhere far north. Kyungsoo’s off attending to official business or so he says, so Luhan, takes up his job for him.

Yixing falters in behind him, eyes roaming around the place as he fixes his dark hair. He’s wearing a black suit, identifying badge tucked snuggly in his left breast pocket. His dark dress shoes squeak against the floor as he makes to roam farther but Luhan makes it a point to grab him before he wanders off and gets lost.

“Junmyeon’s not sleeping with Kyungsoo,” Yixing tells him as they continue the conversation they’d begun in Luhan’s car. Luhan hadn’t brought up anything about Junmyeon’s and Kyungsoo’s relationship, just his discomfort in Yixing being around, and Junmyeon being missing. “I know that’s what you think, but Kyungsoo’s not sleeping with him.”

“I didn’t think that,” Luhan tells him, removing his sunglasses and blinking slowly to adjust his eyes to the new lighting. “Kyungsoo doesn’t like Junmyeon in that way.”

“They’re family friends,” Yixing says. “Obviously, we all are, but Kyungsoo and Junmyeon have a more…” He trails off then, frowning because no matter what comes to mind it doesn’t fit what he wants to say. “It’s complicated,” he whispers, the frown still on his lips. “It’s like he feels obligated to Junmyeon or something.”

“Yixing, I really don’t care,” Luhan stresses. “You didn’t have to follow me here just to say that either.”

“I didn’t follow you here just to say that,” Yixing tells him. “I’m here for models.”

Luhan has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he’s interrupted by a call of his name, and he’s looking from Yixing, to the direction he heard it in. He catches sight of Sehun, hair slightly ruffled but still styled, dark eyeliner smudged around his narrowed eyes, and a tight white tank top, exposing the ripples of the muscle in his arms, and torso. It only takes a few strides of his long legs for him to reach Luhan, towering over the elder.

“Why do you look like that,” Luhan asks with a frown. “Did you have an earlier shoot?”

“Where’s Kyungsoo,” Sehun asks.

“He’s busy,” Luhan tells him. “I’m in charge today, so if you have something to say, say it now or get back to your dressing room.”

“I can’t stay late,” Sehun tells him.

“I’m not in control of the shoot Sehun,” Luhan tells him with a sigh. “Do your part and leave if you have somewhere you want to be.”

“We won’t be starting any time soon,” Sehun states, “They’re almost done setting up, and I’m next for dressing, but they said it’ll be an hour and a half till they really start.” Sehun leans in now, staring pleadingly into Luhan’s eyes. “I really can’t stay.”

“Okay,” Luhan says with a sigh. “I’ll tell them you have somewhere else to be as per President Kim’s request and see if I can get all the parts that require you started soon. This better be life or death with the way you’re acting.”

“Thanks,” Sehun says, excusing himself back to his dressing room.

“Where did he get his Gene,” Yixing asks, leaning in to inconspicuously whisper in Luhan’s ear. “If all Perfects looked like that. We’d be a polygamous race of people.”

“That’s genetics at its finest,” Luhan tells him. “Hereditary worked well in that kid’s favor.”

“Luhan, that was a man not a kid,” Yixing says, “and he’s your type Lu, tall, broad shoulders, and an unforgiving face.”

“He doesn’t look like that all the time,” Luhan retorts, “and I’ve seen him grow into that. He’s a child to me.”

“And you’re enthralled by the new cute secretary at your company,” Yixing adds helpfully.

“And that,” Luhan adds dismissively. He’s looking for someone of importance to fix Sehun’s schedule and Yixing is trailing behind him like a lost puppy, refusing to stand too far away.

“Why do you distance this side of your life from us,” Yixing asks. Everything’s settled and the photo shoot has just begun. Up until the photographer started taking pictures, Yixing was coyly flirting with the female models.

“I guess I never saw it as important,” Luhan says, shrugging his shoulders a little as he eyes the shoot.

“You don’t see this as important,” Yixing asks, there’s a crease in his brow in obvious disbelief and his lips are parted as he scoffs. “You’re a celebrity Lu, there are billboards with your face on it. You’re seen on every television throughout the country. The whole production team listened to your words without any complaint. You have all this power, and you must not see it as important because you’ve been doing this since you were a teenager. But Lu you’re not just some nobody.”

Luhan leans against one of the many pillars in the room as Yixing gives his microscopic lecture. He’s not bothered, Yixing’s known for going on those tiny speeches when he felt particularly strong about something. “I just…I don’t think this side of me is the true me, so I don’t feel it necessary to show you it.”

“So kids like Sehun and Kai,” Yixing asks. “You care about them but…”

“But I’m not introducing them to you because I don’t need you corrupting them,” Luhan retorts, grinning just a bit.

********

Yixing leaves with Sehun; they share a taxi cab to go back into the main part of the city. With them gone, Luhan focuses his attention back on the photo shoot.  Kai is done about an half an hour later and after respectfully greeting and thanking the staff for taking care of the two young models he heads to the boy’s dressing room.

“Sehun went to see his boyfriend,” Kai tells him the moment Luhan closes the dressing room door. He’s changing into his normal clothes hair ruffled, and built up makeup clinging to his skin.

“I’d rather not know,” Luhan says with a grimace. “Let me pretend he’s off saving the world or something. I don’t need my accountability questioned.”

Kai nods his head and goes back to changing. Luhan’s playing a mindless cellphone game as he waits. He doesn’t have Minseok’s contact information and it feels like something he should have gotten upon their first meeting. With a world so wired into all types of technology and gadgets, it made absolutely no sense for Luhan not to have such basic information about Minseok.

“Hyung,” Kai calls out quietly. Luhan looks up from his cellphone and towards the younger boy. He’s sitting on the chair in front of the huge vanity table cleared off of all the makeup and hair products the stylists brought in earlier. Kai is staring down at his hands like a guilty child, and Luhan doesn’t know rather to narrow his eyes or comfort the boy.

“What’s wrong,” he finds himself asking as he gazes at the younger male.

“What do you think about the Imperfects,” Kai asks. “Not the rebels, just the people that were born Imperfect.”

“I think they’re pathetic,” Luhan says almost sneering. “Why?”

“Don’t you think they deserve our sympathy,” Kai asks softly. He seems to shrink more and more into himself as he divulges deeper onto the topic of the Imperfect citizens. “I mean many of them had no choice but to be Imperfect because their parents didn’t want to be anything but.”

“They’ve had their chances,” Luhan says. “You might not know this but before the genocide, Imperfects were after Perfects and killed many of us. That’s why they say subways aren’t safe.”

“So you dislike even the ones that are our age,” Kai asks, “the ones that had nothing to do with anything?”

“I don’t dislike them,” Luhan states. “You need to care about them to dislike them, and I don’t care about them. Why are you asking so much about Imperfects? You don’t normally care about political things.”

“Just, if a Perfect was to get involved with an Imperfect what would you think about that,” Kai asks next. He drums his fingers softly against the table and looks at Luhan head on as if he has nothing to hide. The change in behavior strikes Luhan as weird and the older male figures that he actually does have something to hide.

“Even if it’s something as simple as sex, you shouldn’t do it,” Luhan says. “Don’t go to a brothel, don’t hire them as maids or whatever, just don’t do it.”

“I wasn’t asking for myself,” Kai tells him. “I don’t really care much about them either. I just wanted to know what you think of a Perfect that gets involved with an Imperfect.”

“If they know what they’re doing than I don’t really care,” Luhan says. “It’s just that if you see them as more than what they really are, than you can be seen as a sympathizer to the rebellion, and that’ll get you dead.”

“So if an Imperfect and Perfect were to fall in love,” Kai starts only to have Luhan interrupt him.

“That’s taboo,” Luhan says. “We shouldn’t even be talking about that here, the walls have ears and we’ve been talking about dangerous topics for a while now.”

“It’s fine,” Kai states standing. “You told me all I needed to know. I don’t have any more questions.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what brought this up,” Luhan asks, standing up as well. He heads to the door with Kai trailing closely behind him.

“Just one of my friends from school spends a lot of his free time in the Red Light District,” Kai states. “I’m worried.”

“You have a right to be,” Luhan says. “Try talking to him I guess.”

Luhan drives Kai to Kyungsoo’s house upon the younger’s request and afterwards he heads home.

********

Luhan lets a tired yawn slip pass his lips as he heads towards Kim Minseok’s desk. At the first sound of his steps Minseok had peered up at him and watched him with a toothy grin that made Luhan smile in return.

“Should I tell President Kim, you’re here,” Minseok asks when Luhan stops right in front of his desk.

“Please don’t,” Luhan tells him, frowning just a bit. “I’m here for you. Your lunch break is approaching right?”

“Three minutes from now,” Minseok says, eyes quickly flickering to the clock. He presses the intercom button and excuses himself to lunch. “Where are we going today?”

“You don’t want to eat at the cafeteria,” Luhan asks, watching as Minseok grabs his coat off the rack beside his desk.

“I figured we should take turns if this is going to be a constant thing,” Minseok states, walking around his desk, and moving so that he’s standing directly in front of Luhan, leaning slightly against his desk. “Where do you want to go?”

“There’s a store,” Luhan says, remembering slowly. “Not too far from here, it’s kind of a convenience store, they sell a lot of cheap food.”

“There’s a convenience store in District One,” Minseok asks, in surprise. “More importantly, you’ve been to it?”

“I go to places like that,” Luhan says, following Minseok out of the door. “I went a lot when I was younger.”

"I need your contact information," Luhan tells Minseok as they travel down the elevator together.

"Why do you need my contact information," Minseok asks his eyes are on the transparent glass of the elevator. The man's hands are stuffed in his tight-fitted slacks and his eyes flicker from person to person as they descend down floor after floor.

"Because I don't have it," Luhan replies feeling more than a bit stupid when Minseok laughs out right at him. The elevator stops on the main floor, and the doors open as a courteous automated voice tells them to have a nice day. In front of them stands a group of company employees and Minseok bows swiftly in greeting while Luhan nods his head in lazy acknowledgment.

"I knew you seemed like the type to not bow in respect," Minseok says once it's just the two of them. He's falters in step to allow Luhan to lead them. The slight change in distance between them has Luhan feeling annoyed. When Minseok was leading Luhan was able to have a nice view of him, now with Minseok a full step behind him he feels like he's talking to thin air as he stares ahead.

"What's that supposed to mean," Luhan asks. He sounds more affronted than he feels, but Minseok still chuckles lightly behind him.

"Nothing," Minseok says dismissively, "go back to stating the obvious." Luhan turns then, walking backwards and forcing the few people on the street to move around him. He pushes his lips in an overly exaggerated pout and knits his eyebrows together pathetically.

"You're not being very nice," he says watching Minseok's reaction. The older male's eyes shoot to his hairline before he smirks in a way that reminds Luhan of Kai when he's told to look sexy in front of a camera. The lift of Minseok's lips into a toothsome grin is so confident and mischievous, Luhan finds it effortless and extremely sexy to the point where Luhan finds his thoughts running away with the rest of his mind.

"When did I ever say I was nice," Minseok asks.

Luhan lips part, barely breathing out the first syllable of his response when in a matter of milliseconds the playful confidence of Minseok’s melts away into sheer panic and horror.

Luhan feels Minseok's hand wrap around his wrist and he almost trips into the older boy as Minseok pulls him close. They stand at the edge of the sidewalk, mere centimeters apart and Luhan watches Minseok as Minseok looks towards him his bottom lip in between his teeth and his eyebrows knitted so tightly together wrinkles form. The grip on Luhan's wrist is slightly painful and despite the height difference Luhan feels small as he stares into Minseok's clouded with worry eyes.

"You're so stupid," Minseok says letting his wrist go. A resigned sigh slips pass his lips as if he's giving up, but the mischievousness in his eyes starts to return.

"So," Luhan begins a foolish grin gracing his lips as the beeping of the crosswalk behind him suddenly plays loudly in their ears. "Can I have your number?"


	11. Chapter Ten

“So will you tell me why you wanted my info so badly if you weren’t going to use it till now,” Minseok asks, through the video call. He’s in a subway car on his way home and the signal is so muffled that his voice and the video goes out of sync and Luhan sees his lips moving before he actually hears the words. It had been nearly a week since Luhan had asked for Minseok’s Information and until now he’d barely contacted the boy outside of the occasional phone call.

He grimaces slightly before speaking, “there should be something done with the subway connection. I needed your information because next Friday I’m having a party, you’re invited.” Minseok’s lips move, and his eyebrows rise before the words are actually heard.

“A party,” his voice cracks due to the static and the image lags once more. “You’re not allowed to have parties anymore. That was the first thing I learned about you.”

“You asked about me,” Luhan asks, a grin on his lips and eyes sparkling. In the short time he managed to get to know Minseok he was sure that the older boy would wittily deny it.

“No, I was told about you,” Minseok replies. “Your parties were considered legendary when you could have them. You’re not supposed to have them.”

“It’s a small gathering really,” Luhan tells him, “besides Kyungsoo, Sehun, and Kai, you’re the only person from Nessen I’m inviting. You’re also the only person in direct contact with President Kim, so if you don’t tell, I won’t.”

“Hmm,” Minseok muses. There’s more lag on his side, but from the way the camera shakes in a halting motion Luhan can tell that he’s getting off the subway car, and hopefully onto the street. “I’m going to have to use voice only, unless you want me walking into walls because of you.”

“So will you come to my party,” Luhan asks, the screen goes blank before he’s met with the wallpaper of his phone and he decides to play a game on his cellphone. “How far away from your subway stop is your house.”

“Only a few blocks,” Minseok answers. “I’m five minutes away. Why are you so willing to face the wrath of President Kim for a party? I’ve been told you’ve been on your best behavior recently.”

“Honestly Minseok, I’m starting to think you do ask about me,” Luhan says teasingly. “It’s okay if you do. The party’s for two of my friends, they’re a part of the CNS so they’ve been out of the Capital for a while.”

“If it’ll make you feel better about you asking about me, then sure I ask about you,” Minseok says teasing. There’s noise on his end, and Luhan listens as he mutters a soft greeting into the air to tell his parents that he’s home.

“When did I ever say I asked about you,” Luhan asks, sitting down in a chair near the window of his apartment. “I think I see your house from my view.”

“Are you bragging rich kid?” Minseok asks, “and you didn’t say anything, Jongin did.”

“If you come to my party you can see my view,” Luhan says, “it’s the best in District Two, I can see the river from my view.”

“You probably see District Seven then,” Minseok says. “Unless you’re on the edge of District Two.”

“Come to my party and you can find out,” Luhan says in a singsong manner.

“Hmm,” Minseok says. “It’s next Friday right?”

“Do you work on Saturdays,” Luhan asks, he’s unconsciously frowning as he holds the phone up to his ear. They hadn’t gone back to video call and Luhan’s a bit disappointed by that.

“I work late on weekends,” Minseok answers. “I can go to your party.”

“Great,” Luhan says.

********

“Kris,” Luhan mutters, opening the younger male’s office door and stepping into the room. “I’m having a party next Friday and… Who the hell are you?” In Kris’s private office, sitting at the younger Perfect’s desk is a boy with short dark hair, his eyes are wide as he gazes at Luhan, pen frozen in hand.

The boy stands quickly, bowing out of manners. “I-I’m Park Chanyeol sir,” the boy says. He’s tall about Kris’s height, and his voice is deep, but filled with obvious nervousness. Luhan casts a look around the room. It’s still looks like Kris’s office, pictures still lined the desk and with the way the boy was quickly looking from Luhan to one of the pictures on the desk, Luhan was sure that he was staring at the picture of him and Kris.

“Why are you here,” Luhan asks, frowning. Kris didn’t like people in his personal space and this boy had the nerve to sit at Kris’s desk as if he owned the place.

“I-uh,” the boy starts before his gaze flickers to behind Luhan.

“Are you scaring him Lu,” Kris asks.

“Who is he,” Luhan asks as if the boy hadn’t just introduced himself.

“He’s my new intern,” Kris says. He takes the seat Chanyeol had vacated as Chanyeol begins speaking of the paperwork he hadn’t completed yet. “It’s fine, go ask Jongdae about your next assignment.”

The boy grins at Kris and nods his head, bowing politely to Luhan and scurries out of the room.

“An intern Kris, you don’t do interns,” Luhan says, taking up his usual seat across from Kris.

“Why are you here,” Kris asks.

“Why is he here,” Luhan questions in return.

“Lu,” Kris says warningly.

“Fine,” Luhan says. “I’m having a party next week.”

“Where,” Kris asks, eyebrows furrowing as he looks up from his paperwork.

“My place,” Luhan answers. “Where else do I usually throw my parties?”

“You’re not allowed to have parties at your place,” Kris says. “I remember the day President Kim banned them, you came storming into my office and made me behind on work.”

“Your behind is everyone else’s on time,” Luhan retorts. “Look, Junmyeon and Yixing are going to be here for a while apparently and I figured it would be a good excuse to throw them a welcome home party. Nothing large or outrageous, just a gathering with a few people.”

“You don’t have to feed me excuses,” Kris says. “I’m not the one that’s going to face President’s Kim’s anger.”

“Well,” Luhan says. “All I’m asking is for you to find a little bit of time in your schedule to come to my party. You can bring Jongdae and that intern of yours if you’d like.”

“I’ll try to clear my schedule,” Kris replies.

“Good,” Luhan says standing. “By the way, Kyungsoo’s hosting a get-together tonight and you’ll be a dead man if you miss it.” He heads swiftly towards the office door at that, not desiring to stay and hear Kris complain.

Chanyeol is standing near the door when Luhan exits. He's tall, so tall that he nearly towers over Luhan. He'd be threatening if it wasn't for his lean and lanky figure and the ever present smile on his lips.

The boy who'd looked intimidated and frightened upon first meeting Luhan bows deeply. "Have a good day sir," his words are typical corporate sendoff but the happy lift his deep voice brings to it almost makes it seem sincere. Luhan nods his goodbye and leaves the office.

********

Kyungsoo’s apartment is professionally decorated. Luhan’s apartment was a combination of Luhan’s mind and an interior designer’s. Kyungsoo's apartment on the other hand held very little of his personality because the younger male claimed he was too busy to give much thought into the design of his apartment.

That being said, Kyungsoo's very apartment still represented a person from a wealthy and dignified background. It was basic in color, white walls, with cream and black expensive furniture. The only signs of color were Kyungsoo's many pieces of art, such as a century old painting that Junmyeon's family had offered him as a housewarming present. Kyungsoo hadn't and still doesn't know the first thing about art but he accepted it gratefully.

On his glass coffee table between the cream sofa and extremely large television sits a jar of tiny translucent multicolored pebbles. Like a child Luhan would often stick his hand in the jar and gather a fist full before letting the smooth rocks fall back into the jar. It was a mindless but relaxing activity for him. Today, the pebbles find a different use in Yixing's hand. The younger male launches one of the tiny stones in an unaware Luhan's direction, watching as it hits softly at Luhan's cheek before falling to the sofa.

Luhan blinks rapidly in surprise while turning towards his friend. "Did you just throw something at me," he asks, gaze traveling over the sofa to find the tiny projectile. His fingers locate it before his eyes can and he fires it back at Yixing.

They continue their war of throwing rocks back and forth until Junmyeon enters the room and is struck in the chest. Yixing snickers softly as Junmyeon looks down at where he was hit and then up at the two boys, his eyes lingering particularly on Luhan. "Did you just throw one of Kyungsoo's rocks at me?"

"No," Luhan lies, gazing at Junmyeon warily. "Yixing was playing with the rocks, he must have done it."

Junmyeon eyes flicker to Yixing and the younger looks up at him a laugh still on his lips. "Why would I throw a rock at you," he asks Junmyeon innocently as he stands.

"Whatever," Junmyeon replies. "I'm not the one Kyungsoo will kill. I'm going to go tell."

Yixing pouts and Luhan begins his countdown until Junmyeon breaks and helps the boy pick up all the little stones. He meanwhile stealthily sneaks his way out of the room and into the kitchen typing out a message on his phone.

_Do you want to come to Kyungsoo's? He's having a dinner thing._

"When is Yifan coming," Kyungsoo asks. His back is turned to Luhan has he finishes up their dinner.

"When he's finished screwing his new intern," Luhan replies distracted.

"Yifan has an intern," Kyungsoo asks sounding as surprised as Luhan felt meeting the boy. "An intern he chose himself?"

 _Does Kyungsoo want me to come? Isn't this a bit last minute_?

"Mhmm," Luhan mutters. "A very tall and very attractive one at that. I don't like him."

_The best plans are always last minute. I'm sure he wouldn't mind having you. You're a bit similar._

"You never approve of any of Yifan's lovers, is it because–"

"It's not that," Luhan exclaims finally tearing his gaze away from the cellphone to gaze at Kyungsoo. "Kris doesn't even have lovers or people he’s attracted to, he has people his father wants to work with. There's just something about that twitchy giant that makes me uncomfortable."

Kyungsoo goes to retort when the sound of his apartment door opening and closing distracts him. “Yifan’s finally here,” he mutters.

_I sure that’s something only you believe. I’m already home so maybe next time?_

Yifan enters the kitchen the moment Luhan glances down to read the message and the taller male sits beside him. “Why the sudden dinner party Kyungsoo,” he asks.

_Of course, you’ll have many chances to spend time with me in the future._

“Why not,” Kyungsoo replies, “we’re all together for the first time in a long time and I figured we should do something with just us before Luhan’s big party.”

“It’s not a big party,” Luhan denies.

When they’re settled down at the dinner table, eating a feast only Kyungsoo could make, there is barely any silence. They’re young, each of them were still in their early twenties, but because of their legacy and their career choices they were all forced to grow up faster than either of them wanted.

Junmyeon ends up telling Kyungsoo about the childish rock war that took place in his living room. Both Luhan and Yixing earn a glare from the youngest, because despite Kyungsoo’s lack of caring when it came to decorating, he hated having things out of place.

It’s towards the end of dinner that Luhan decides to bring up Kris’s brand new intern. He still wants to know the exact relationship Kris has with the tall male, and Kris is keeping him from knowing just because he wants to torture Luhan.

“Kris, that intern of yours is pretty nice looking,” Luhan compliments, nearly biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

Kris glances up from his dinner to frown at Luhan, “Whatever you’re planning Luhan, don’t. Don’t you have a secretary to keep you company?”

“I just want to know more about him,” Luhan admits innocently. “Park Chanyeol right? Where did you find him?”

“He came in for a job, and seemed competent enough so I told him to be my intern,” Kris replies. Luhan glances up and locks eyes with Yixing, he almost feels a hint of pity when he sees the brief grin Yixing flashes him, but it quickly dissipates. If Kris had just told him more about the intern, then Luhan wouldn’t have to use Yixing’s thirst for knowing things and expert training against the tall male.

“Well I think it’s good you have someone else on your side besides Jongdae,” Kyungsoo says interrupting, his voice has the marking of finality to its tone and Luhan decides against upsetting the younger. Kyungsoo was still a very precious friend to him outside of their role as manager and model, and the age difference had Luhan doting on the younger male for years before their relationship took a shift in power dynamics.

********

When the dinner party is over and Junmyeon, Yixing, and Kris leaves, Luhan sits himself on Kyungsoo’s sofa.

“So a secretary,” Kyungsoo says, Luhan watches as Kyungsoo squats down to pick something off his carpet before standing and launching the thing at Luhan. It hits his chest and Luhan frowns as it lands on his lap.

“Why do people keep throwing stones at me,” Luhan asks still frowning as he puts the rock back in its bowl.

“I know a secretary,” Kyungsoo says. “He’s still pretty new on the job, your age, and if the rumors are right, then you know him to.”

“Rumors,” Luhan repeats, turning to face Kyungsoo. “There are rumors about us?”

"Kim Minseok," Kyungsoo asks, his lips pulling into a frown.

"You don't approve," Luhan asks. "As my manager or as my friend?"

"As your manager I really don't see anything good coming out of you being involved with President Kim's secretary. Well, I don't see anything good coming out on your side of this thing. He's President Kim's secretary, President Kim could be using him."

Luhan frowns deeply, looking away from Kyungsoo to think about the younger male's words. "I don't think he'd do that, but it could happen."

"As your friend," Kyungsoo starts. "I don't disapprove. I'm just, I'm worried, we've been working together for years but we've known each other longer. We’re not as close as you and Kris and Yixing, but we're still close and I don't want to see you hurt."

"You think Minseok can hurt me," Luhan asks turning to face Kyungsoo.

"I don't know," Kyungsoo says shrugging softly. "He's from District Eight right? You can tell what people from District One and Two want with just a glance. People from other districts on the other hand are a bit harder to read."

"He's from District Eight," Luhan reiterates. "They all want the same thing, but Minseok..." He pauses and glances towards Kyungsoo. "I don't think you'll have to worry. I'll be fine."


	12. Chapter Eleven

What's the reason for the party Luhan," a tall slightly older woman asks. "Looking for a lover or is it that you already have one?"

"Do I tend to throw parties to find lovers," Luhan asks in a teasing manner. There aren't many people there yet, but Luhan still tries to engage in conversation with everyone there.

"Well," the woman says a laugh on her lips. "I've only been to a few of your parties and the word is that you usually only throw them when you've found a lover or lost one.

Luhan grins a false little grin as he wonders just how much of his life is known to the public. Maybe there’s a laundry list of every lover he has ever been with passing from ear to ear. "This party is to celebrate the return of two friends,” he explains. “They’ve been out of the Capital for a very long time.”

Yixing comes after Luhan's finished making his first round of greetings. He grabs the older Perfect and throws his hands around his neck to give him a hug. "Luhan," Yixing calls out in childish joy. "Thanks for the party." There's a strong smell of alcohol on Yixing's breath and Luhan knows that it's only the start of a drunken night for him.

"You're drunk," Luhan states, an indulgent laugh at the tip of his tongue. Yixing doesn't answer and instead rests a heavy arm around Luhan's shoulders.

"So where's the real guest of honor," he asks, whispering inconspicuously as if he's speaking of something forbidden.

"Junmyeon," Luhan asks, eyes narrowing in mock confusion. "You would know better than me."

"No not him," Yixing says, shaking his head and leaning in closer to Luhan, "your secretary."

"Oh," Luhan mutters, "he hasn't arrived yet."

Yixing frowns just slightly, "ah, I can't wait to meet him." He lets go of Luhan and heads to pick his poison from Luhan's extensive collection of alcohol.

Kyungsoo arrives after Yixing with Kai right behind him. Luhan greets them both and asks Sehun's whereabouts, watching in mild amusement as Kai stutters out some excuse about family _problems_. Luhan figures the youngest model is spending time with his new boyfriend that Kai had informed him of and figures he’ll tease the youngest the next time he sees him.

Kris arrives alone, and Junmyeon sneaks his way in with an entourage of men and women.

Finally after much anticipation on Luhan's part, Minseok arrives. Luhan finds himself taking in a sharp breath of air as he gazes unabashedly at Minseok. Luhan has only seen Minseok in ill-fitting suits. Minseok has discarded that look for the night, and if Luhan thought Minseok was attractive in his slightly tight suits, then he was simply sinful at the moment.

Minseok is dressed from head to toe in black, his coat which he removes and holds in his arms is a heavy black leather with fur lining, and extremely expensive.  His pants are just as dark as his coat and the way they cling to his legs and hips nearly makes Luhan feel like a pervert for staring so intently. Minseok's shirt is the only simple thing on him, it's a basic black with a pretty silver design.

He's one of the last to arrive, and Yixing is the first to greet him. Luhan does his best to not grimace as he watches Yixing talk to Minseok. He doesn't have to worry about Yixing scaring Minseok, he has to worry about drunk flirty Yixing, and childhood friend Yixing. If Luhan's honest, despite how childish it may seem Yixing hitting on Minseok and telling embarrassing stories of Luhan’s childhood, is nightmare inducing. Yixing’s tales were worse than any rumor that existed about him, because at least then Luhan could deny those.

He continues watching them as Yixing grabs Minseok's hand and leads him over to Junmyeon. The younger boy looks into Luhan's direction, flashes a taunting wink accompanied with an impish grin and laughs when Luhan glares at him in return. He's going to have to work extra hard to erase Yixing's meeting from Minseok's mind. Luhan takes one last look at Minseok sitting in between Junmyeon and Yixing with a beer in his hand, and he can't help but think that Minseok fits in well.

It's not unthinkable to imagine that Minseok might have been to clubs in District Three or Four, but the Secretary had always been a tad bit aloof when talking to Luhan, so in a way Luhan had assumed quite foolishly that Minseok worked and barely ever played. Looking at him now, Luhan can't help but think that Minseok would fit in well in his world, amongst the elite.

Minseok ends up approaching him first, he corners Luhan in the kitchen, a brand new drink in his hand as he leans against the counter beside the sink. "Hey," Minseok says with a small smile as he takes a sip of his drink.

Luhan stares, stunned at the way Minseok seems utterly relaxed despite being out of his element. "Hey," Luhan says as well, with his own smile, "are you enjoying yourself?" Luhan concludes then that Minseok is just a master of disguise because the boy's shoulders sag just a little as if he’s releasing some of the tension free and his smile broadens, reaching his eyes as he gazes at Luhan.

"Yes," Minseok breathes out, "your friends are great. Thank you for inviting me." Luhan falters then as he's met with such sincerity and he's not exactly sure what to say, Minseok had been at the top of his invite list, higher than Junmyeon and Yixing, when he first decided to throw the party.

"How did you get here, did you take the subway," Luhan finds himself asking, attempting to change the subject.

“No I flew,” Minseok says jokingly, “It really isn’t as bad as you think it is.”

"It is," Luhan replies indignantly. "You can't even have a proper phone call while you're down there."

"Maybe one day you can take it with me,” Minseok says, “I promise that no Imperfects are going to attack you. Everyone minds their own business.”

“I guess,” Luhan says albeit a bit reluctant. “I’m always up for a new adventure.”

“Good,” Minseok says. He then proceeds to move closer to Luhan, eyes shining brightly as if he’s about to speak of a great secret, “You have all these friends in high places, yet you’re just a model. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Friends in high places,” Luhan repeats, “like who.” He has a small smile on his lips as he plays dumb.

“Kris Wu, the Zhang family’s sole heir, and Kim Junmyeon,” Minseok lists off. “Just who are you?”

“I’m Luhan,” Luhan replies, “A model of no background. We met thanks to a few unfortunate events, and grew up together, Kyungsoo as well, his family is also pretty powerful.”

“Tell me about it,” Minseok presses, leaning forward as he stares into Luhan’s eyes, “not the unfortunate events, tell me about your life growing up.”

 “It’s not that interesting,” Luhan mutters, just as Yixing comes into the kitchen. Minseok draws his eyes away from Luhan and turns his attention to the younger male, grinning as Yixing approaches them.

“Hi Yixing,” he greets simply, seeming to not be in the least put off by Yixing’s sudden interruption.

“Hi Minseok,” Yixing greets, he lingers on the last syllable of Minseok’s name, stretching it out in a singsong way. “What are we talking about?”

He makes to grab the bottle of wine beside Luhan’s arm, but Luhan quickly moves it out of his way and leers at his friend. “You,” Luhan says bitingly, “and Junmyeon. Why aren’t you with him?”

“Why do you sound so upset Lu,” Yixing retorts, “if you don’t want people interrupting your conversation, don’t you think you should do it somewhere more private. You have an apartment full of people, it’s only a matter of time before more come crashing in here.”

He flashes Luhan a conspiring grin and Luhan doesn’t know rather he should roll his eyes affectionately or kick Yixing back into Junmyeon’s arms, one glance at Minseok shows that the secretary finds the whole situation humorous, and Luhan’s sure he knows what Yixing’s hinting at.

“He’s right Luhan,” Minseok says playfully, “you can’t have a private conversation in such a public place.”

“Fine,” Luhan huffs, he grabs the bottle of wine, and two glasses. “Minseok come on.”

Minseok puts down his near finished drink and follows after Luhan, giving Yixing a quick goodbye. They enter in Luhan’s bedroom and Minseok takes his time to briefly look around before setting his eyes on a book beside Luhan’s bed.

He doesn’t comment on it but he does flash Luhan a curious glance. “So tell me about your childhood. I don’t care if you think it’s not interesting, I want to hear it.”

Luhan falters at Minseok’s honest curiosity. “Where should I start? What do you want to know?” He pours the wine in one of the glasses and hands it to Minseok before pouring another for himself. He’s not exactly sober and he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t be drinking anymore to stay at the nice balance of slight inebriation, but he needs something to stop himself from staring blatantly at Minseok.

“How was it growing up with such legendary families,” Minseok asks, “I’m sure it was probably no big deal to you, but I’m from District Eight, paint me a picture.”

Minseok says his district with such ease that it honestly surprises Luhan, he had seemed so ashamed the night Luhan had volunteered to take him home, and yet now, he said it without a second thought.

“It was pretty intimidating,” Luhan admits, before launching into minor anecdotes of his past. He tells Minseok about the large gatherings their families would throw, and how he became friends with Kris and Yixing, before he met everyone. He keeps things on a happy and easy note, small surges of confidence coursing through him at every expression Minseok makes, or every awed sound that leaves the boy’s lips.

Eventually they move onto different topics, from tales about Luhan’s guests to stories of Minseok’s workplace. Luhan had no idea that working at Nessen outside of the public’s eye could be so entertaining. They nearly go completely through the wine, with Minseok’s subtly reminding him that Luhan should be hosting his party, and not locked in his bedroom talking to one single guest.

It reminds Luhan a lot of when he was a teenager and how he and friends used to sneak expensive alcohol to his room during those huge fancy gatherings, they would hide out and experiment and blame the alcohol for their brash actions.

He’s so wrapped in his thoughts, that he doesn’t even hear Minseok, until the male is deep into his personal space and whispering his name in concern. His eyes are directly on Minseok’s pretty pink lips as he breaks away from his thoughts.

“Are you okay,” Minseok asks, sitting back and biting on his bottom lip, his eyebrows are creased with concern. “Did I bore you already?”

“I’m fine,” Luhan replies with a small laugh, “I got distracted.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a daydreamer,” Minseok says laughing as well. “Whatever had you distracted must have been interesting.”

“Can you guess,” Luhan asks, flashing another glance towards Minseok’s lips. It doesn’t usually take this long for Luhan to kiss someone if he’s attracted to them, but with Minseok he’s still bordering on a line between strictly friendship and pure adult attraction. He hadn’t had such a deep pulling desire to kiss Minseok until that very moment.

“I know,” Minseok says matter-of-factly, he leans back a bit, the smile on his lips is wide and full and the look in his eyes is both mischievous and full of challenge. “You’re pretty easy to read when you want to be.”

Luhan doesn’t get Minseok’s confidence, but he figures that he must have had a lot of admirers in his lifetime, it’s reasonable and would make sense with how he looked and behaved, or maybe Minseok was just confident by nature. He hadn’t been the least bit shaken when Luhan walked into President Kim’s office the day of their very first meeting.

Luhan’s eyes continue to flicker from Minseok’s eyes full of challenge to his lips, back and forth. He knows what he wants, and he’s usually never afraid of going after that, but for some reason despite the amount of alcohol in his system, and the dare in Minseok’s mocha brown eyes he can’t voice his desires.

“Will you let me,” Luhan finally asks. His heart is beating quickly in excitment He has never wanted a kiss as badly as he does now and he thinks maybe it’s the chase, if this was any other person they would have already melted into him, but Minseok puts up a fight, he makes everything a challenge, a question of courage. Luhan watches silently as Minseok tooth-revealing smile turns into a simple closed mouth one, before he presses his lips together as if he’s thinking of what to answer.

There’s a tiny quirk of Minseok’s lips and Luhan’s sure that he’s going to laugh at him. Luhan would have if he was in Minseok’s shoes. Luhan has probably done it before, laughing at someone else’s expense because they were too shy or cautious to take action. It was only fitting that he was now in that position.

A cold hand, holds the side of his neck, completely breaking him from his thoughts of doubt, and allowing him to go back to anticipation. Minseok’s eyes aren’t closed like an inexperienced teenager about to lean in for his first kiss, the challenge has melted away but the mischievous glint is still there.

Minseok moves in closer and closer, head tilted just slightly as his lips press against Luhan’s. It’s simply a press of lips together at first, but then Luhan’s confidence is back and he’s kissing Minseok, enjoying more than just the softness of Minseok’s lips as their mouths move together.

If kissing was a school subject, Luhan was sure Minseok could study it, master it, and teach lessons in it with ease. Minseok sucks gently at each lip, drags Luhan's tongue into his mouth, and the way he sucks on that makes Luhan's knees weak. They let their tongues work together in a game of dominance which Luhan wins or Minseok surrenders. When they pull apart to allow air into their deprived lungs, Luhan looks from Minseok's still closed eyes to his kiss swollen lips, and the urge to do it again swells inside him.

“You’re not the type to kiss people when you’re drunk are you,” Luhan asks when he finally finds his voice.

“Who said I was drunk,” Minseok replies taunting, “but I’m guessing you’re the type that overthinks things when you drink. For a second I was starting to doubt the rumors.”

“The rumors,” Luhan repeats, “do they say I’m a good kisser?”

“No, that’s something I had to find out myself” Minseok says with a laugh. “They say you’re confident and your ego is the size of this city.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

Later in the evening when most people have left and started to leave, Luhan convinces Minseok that it would be best for him to just spend the night in Luhan’s large apartment. Luhan thinks that a multitude of things, causes Minseok to agree without much fight, ranging from his slightly inebriated state to the fact that the last train had long departed and the Capital City’s subway system wouldn’t be back to running until 5am in the morning.

The two same-aged men share Luhan’s bed without much fuss, snuggled deep into the blankets and pillows, each on their respective side and not really touching as much as one would expect them to. They’re both too tired to feel awkward about being in the same bed, or to even entertain ideas of doing more than just sleeping. However Luhan still manages to pat himself on the back. It’s the second time, in under a month where he is sharing his bed with someone he isn’t doing more than just sleeping with.

In the morning, Luhan wakes to Minseok’s moving around his bedroom. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he makes a show of groaning loudly and putting a pillow over his head.

“Luhan I need clothes,” Minseok tells him, walking over to Luhan’s side of the bed.

“Wear a suit,” Luhan mumbles, he’s so tired that he doesn’t even think about how natural things feel. Instead he waves his hand flippantly in the direction of his closet. Minseok doesn’t say much more after that and surprisingly enough Luhan falls back to sleep right after.

Half an hour later Luhan wakes a second time. The sweet aroma of food seeps through every crevice of his apartment and draws him out of his slumber. He climbs out of bed, and runs his fingers through his sleep destroyed hair.  Instead of going to the kitchen he heads to his bathroom to quickly fix himself up.

When he finally leaves the bathroom Minseok is in the kitchen setting down two sizzling plates of food. "You made me breakfast," Luhan states and that’s when he registers just how weird things feel. It’s oddly domestic which he isn’t used to. Luhan can’t remember the last time anyone has ever made him more than just a cup of coffee.

"As a thank you for letting me spend the night and borrow the suit," Minseok replies. Luhan looks from the food to the boy making his way around the counter. It's not a perfect fit, but Minseok still looks great.

"I like this," Luhan admits, stepping forward to eat his breakfast. "Are you sure you don't want to move in with me?" He thinks that if Minseok were to agree to move in with him, he’d probably get spoiled, not that he wasn’t already.

"You do have a nice view," Minseok muses, his little crooked grin on, "but I'm sure that's against the rules."

"How do you know that," Luhan asks. The party thing had been something that the general public knew, anyone who ever experienced one of Luhan's parties had found out about President Kim's restriction on that. Only those in his inner circle knew about his other restrictions.

"I'm President Kim's secretary," Minseok answers. "I was given a personal warning about you."

"What did he say," Luhan asks.

"Well I know I'm not the first person from Nessen you've been interested in."

"That's," Luhan begins but Minseok interrupts.

"I don't mind," Minseok says with a shrug. "Anyway he explicitly told me that you tended to seduce and destroy people. You make them fall for you, move in with you and then kick them out when you get bored. I’m sure that’s not the full story, but I don’t really think that matters at the moment."

Luhan is quietly picking at his food, wondering if that’s a sign of rejection while waiting for Minseok to say more. He doesn’t, instead Minseok glances down to the food, and starts a brand new conversation. “You don't eat a lot, do you?"

"I can't eat certain foods and my metabolism is pretty slow so I'm rather conscientious of what I eat," Luhan admits, his slow metabolism and weak stomach are other signs of the flaws that come with being a First Gen. In the past he was a picky eater, but when he found his favorite foods he ate without a care to his appearance, as he got older, worries of weight gain prevented him from being so careless.

"Can you eat what I've made,” Minseok asks, and Luhan remembers that’s another reason why he used to have only coffee made for him in the mornings. Many of his past lovers knew he didn’t eat much despite him never given them the reason, so many opted out of fixing him food that would eventually be tossed in the trash.

"Not all of it," Luhan says, almost feeling guilty. He stands suddenly, remembering his hidden place for the pills that were prescribed to him. He takes both white bottles out, reading the title before putting one back and taking a pill out of the other.

What's that," Minseok asks, watching as Luhan swallows down the pill.

"This helps me stay awake throughout the day," Luhan says giving a simple explanation for the pill. He puts it back in his cabinet and takes out the other one. "This one helps me sleep,” he says next shaking the pill bottle slightly. Usually Luhan is a lot more cautious about revealing his flaws to others, but Minseok seems like a First Gen, and even if he isn’t, he doesn’t seem like the type that would exploit another’s flaws.

“Like Alice,” he hears Minseok mutters.

“Who’s Alice,” Luhan asks, the silence of his apartment making the words clear. “A girlfriend,” he asks next when he notices Minseok go rigid.

“No,” the older boy says shaking his head. “Alice is, well she’s from a children’s tale.”

“What tale,” Luhan asks. He remembers most fairy tales but he doesn’t remember any about a girl named Alice.

“It’s not a fairy tale,” Minseok admits softly. “It’s the tale of a young girl that follows a rabbit down a rabbit’s hole and finds herself in a mythical place called Wonderland.”

“How are we similar,” Luhan asks tilting his head. He knows that if it’s not a fairy tale then it doesn’t and shouldn’t exist in written form since all fiction books had been lost years ago, and the move to a more wired-in world had people relying on television to provide them with new and modern stories.

“It’s,” Minseok starts, he still appears openly uncomfortable about diverging onto such a topic, so Luhan gives him a reassuring smile. “The contradiction just stood out to me,” Minseok explains. “In the tale, Alice comes across a drink that says Drink Me, and a cake that says Eat Me. One makes her shrink, while the other makes her grow. I’m not sure why I brought it up.”

“You should tell me the full tale,” Luhan says, going back to his seat. “I already have a lot of questions.”

“I don’t want to,” Minseok says, “It’s a long tale, and I have to get to work soon. Maybe next time?”

“Now’s as good a time as any,” Luhan says, taking small cautious bites of his breakfast. “You can tell me now and as I drive you to work. If it’s so long you can tell me in installments.”

He knows he’s being a bit cruel with the way he’s asking Minseok to do something that makes him uncomfortable, but he’s curious about the tale and how Minseok knows it. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to announce to the world that Minseok told him some children’s story that he could have very well made up himself. There wasn't anything necessarily wrong with telling such a thing to someone, anyway. Sure if Minseok told it to the wrong person they might look upon him with suspicion of what else he might know, but Luhan wouldn't tell a soul about Minseok's weird words and strange tales if it could get him into trouble.

Minseok cheeks puff just the slightest as his lips purse together and he narrows his eyes at Luhan. Luhan on the other hand has to stop himself from gaping at the sudden onslaught of cute behavior coming from the older male. He didn’t know if it was on purpose, or a subconscious act, but it was surprising nonetheless. Every person that Luhan surrounded himself with seemed to have a serious personality, and tended to avoid doing things that would be considered too cute so openly.

“Fine,” Luhan mumbles a moment later, watching as Minseok’s pout turns into a grin. He’s still a bit dumbstruck, not because he gave into Minseok’s wishes so easily, but because he was surprised at Minseok’s behavior. “You’ll tell me later won’t you?”

“Maybe,” Minseok says, looking down to his own food as he begins to eat as well. Luhan begins to change the topic when suddenly the pair hear Luhan’s apartment door open and close.

“Shit,” Luhan mutters the amusement slipping from his features as he stands quickly in alarm.

There’s only one person that would enter his home without any signs of prior notice, and Luhan finds himself panicking as the sound of footsteps resound louder and louder as the person in his apartment makes their way from the entrance to the kitchen. Across from Luhan, Minseok freezes in terror as he locks eyes with his boss.

“What are you doing here,” President Kim asks, the question is directed to Minseok. President Kim stares at him in curiosity, eyes trained on the obviously expensive suit the boy has on.

“I’m taking him to work,” Luhan answers for Minseok, his hands are gripping the edge of the table as he stares directly at President Kim, attempting to appear stronger than he feels.

“I should have just waited for you to come to me then,” President Kim says drily. He turns towards Minseok and leers. “You go wait in my car, you’ll come with me to work.”

Minseok nods his head and quickly makes to leave but Luhan stops him. “That’s not necessary,” Luhan says grabbing onto the boy’s wrist quickly. “I’ve already promised him, and…” He trails off and President Kim steps forward.

“Luhan let go of his hand,” President Kim tells him coldly. He crosses his arms across his body and glares hard at Luhan. “We need to talk.” Luhan reluctantly releases Minseok’s wrist and watches as the boy scurries out of kitchen. He bows his head and keeps silent as he waits to hear the open and close of the apartment door.

“Don’t punish him,” Luhan says once he’s sure that Minseok has left and he’s all alone with President Kim. There’s a _please_ that lingers on his lips. As much as he doesn’t want Minseok to get into trouble for doing as Luhan wishes, he knows that there isn’t much that President Kim would do to him.

“Why would I punish him,” President Kim asks, his eyes drop to the two plates of food on the counter as he speaks. “He’s not the one that decided to blatantly ignore my words.”

“Junmyeon and Yixing are back,” Luhan explains. “It was a party for them, to celebrate their return.”

“Unless Great Ruler himself purposely asked you to throw a party it was still breaking my rules,” President Kim states. “Your punishment will come in due time. I just figured you should know that I know.”

His words are said as if he’s just stating facts instead of threatening Luhan, and he knows it’s because to President Kim Luhan is just another appointment he’ll have to work in. He’s like a pet that’s been disobedient. President Kim turns to leave and Luhan speaks up, “what about Minseok,” he asks.

“Minseok,” President Kim asks as well. “Oh you mean my secretary.” His eyes flash with the tell-tale signs of amusement as his lips pull into a cruel little smile. “Well he’s not exactly who you think he is.”

Luhan frowns himself, while Kyungsoo’s words suddenly ring through his mind. He wants President Kim to leave his apartment as quickly as possible, but he can’t stop from asking President Kim what exactly he means.

“He’ll stay,” President Kim says, the same little smile lingering on his lips telling Luhan that he’s got something planned. “He’ll be fine, only if you abide by my rules. If you break another rule, I’ll have to assume that this defiance is a result of that man, and I’ll have to let him go. If he goes, then you won’t see him ever again Luhan.”

“You said you wouldn’t punish him,” Luhan states weakly. He feels like a child again, remembering all the things he’d lost because he was a bad child, because he wasn’t the perfect Perfect.

“Punish,” President Kim repeats as if Luhan has said a foreign word. “I won’t be punishing him, I’ll be doing him a well-deserved favor.”

President Kim leaves just as he’d come, the slapping of his leather shoes loud against the floor breaking the peace and silence of Luhan’s apartment.

Luhan stands motionless even after the door of his apartment closes with a slam. His bottom lip is red and glistening from the way his teeth had abused it. There’s a burning humiliation that runs through him, as he feels worse than a child reprimanded. The air is suffocating, but it isn’t until he’s scrapping his and Minseok’s breakfast into the trash, that the fact that he’s alone now in a too large apartment catches up to him, making him feel even worse.

Once all the dishes are in the sink, Luhan wonders what he should do next. His first thought is to call Kris, or Junmyeon, or anyone of his other friends in high places. He knows they’re the ones that have enough connections to help him figure out what exactly Kim Minseok was hiding. He’d thought that Minseok was simply President Kim’s newest secretary, but from President Kim’s words it seemed as if Minseok did more than answer calls and make appointments.

Those thoughts quickly erase when he notices the amount of missed calls he has from Yixing. He quickly dials the younger boy’s number not even bothering to have a video call. He’s sure he still looks spooked and honestly speaking he doesn’t even want to talk to another person anytime soon.

“Please tell me you’ve been calling to deliver good news,” Luhan says the very moment Yixing answers the call.

Yixing’s silent for a moment, and begins to speak choosing to ignore what Luhan has said. “How’s Minseok,” Yixing asks. “He spent the night right?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Luhan says, feeling sick all over again as his mind remembers the event from only moments ago. “And he’s at work right now. Did you really call me to ask about Minseok?”

“No, sorry,” Yixing says voice sounding remorseful even over the phone. “It’s about that blond model I met at that photo shoot.”

“Sehun,” Luhan asks, his blood running cold at the thought of anything happening to the younger boy.

“Mhm,” Yixing hums. “Look Lu, I don’t know fully what I saw or what it even means, I just figured you probably needed to know.”

“Just get to the point,” Luhan says, he doesn’t add on that Yixing’s words are scaring him after he’d never gotten the chance to recover from President Kim’s surprise visit. He doesn't want to let his weakness be known.

“That day we left the factory together, I saw him heading to the Red Light District,” Yixing says. Luhan’s quiet, his eyebrows furrow together and a deep frown sets across his features.

“Are you sure,” Luhan asks.

“There was a taxi and I told him I’d pay for us both, but he said he didn’t need it,” Yixing says. “I got in and when I looked back I saw him heading in the direction of the Red Light District. Unless he had a job in a neighboring factory, I can’t understand why he’d walked in that direction.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to take a taxi with you,” Luhan suggests, “or he wanted to walk around for a bit.”

“The kid made it seem like wherever he had to be was urgent,” Yixing retorts. “He looked just about ready to dash down the street till the taxi came, then he tried to pretend like he was calm. I know how to read people Lu. It was suspicious.”

“Yixing,” Luhan says voice lifting in warning. “You’re not…”

“I’m not going to do anything,” Yixing says. “I’m not here to dictate some model’s life, and if he’s stepping out of line District Police will handle it.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Luhan says sighing softly. “I’ll talk to him, just…thank you for telling me Xing.”

“Course,” Yixing mutters. “You better give me a detail report on what happened with Minseok. He’s too cute for you”

Luhan wrinkles his nose in disdain and laughs a bit, “Bye, Yixing.”

********

Luhan arrives at Kai and Sehun’s apartment in the late afternoon. Luhan doesn’t like anger. Anger is an extremely uncontrollable emotion, and Luhan likes control. He likes having the chance to think through things and assess the situation, thinking of the best approach. With anger he couldn’t do that. With anger, he was rash and dangerous to all those around him.

He wasn’t a physical person, he was cruel with his tongue. When he hadn’t mastered his control of his anger, he instead mastered his words. He had welded the ability to cut through stone with his words though it was something that had only given him satisfaction in the moment. Luhan was reckless and hurtful when he was angry, but when that haze of anger evaporated he was left regretful and ashamed.

Luhan’s not angry when he knocks roughly on Kai and Sehun’s apartment door. The emotion he feels falls into that spectrum but it’s low on the scale. He can control it and use clear-headed thinking.

The door opens to a frowning Kai, and Luhan nearly glares as the boy’s face contorts into surprise. “Luhan-hyung what are you doing here,” he asks, he pushes his body in the open space between the door and its hinge. Luhan frowns trying to peer over the boy’s shoulder but Kai doesn’t permit him.

“Where’s Sehun,” Luhan asks, his voice doesn’t betray him. He sounds a lot calmer than he feels.

“He’s in his bedroom hyung,” Kai says. “He’s not feeling well, so if you need to tell him something you can tell me. I’ll relay the message.”

“Let me see him Kai,” Luhan says, he’s not asking, he’s demanding the younger male to let him in and if he doesn’t let him in within the next minute he’ll be forcing his way in.

“Hyung,” Kai says, suddenly standing at full height, pulling the door closed a bit more as he does so. “I know you came all the way out here to see him, but he’s really not well Luhan hyung. The thing with his family from last night, it has him feeling really bad.”

“What exactly is that thing with his family,” Luhan asks.

“His parents are in desperate need of money,” Kai says. “He’s saved some of his earnings but he blew the majority of them and his savings aren’t enough.”

“I’ll write him a check,” Luhan retorts before he’s pushing hard into Kai catching the younger by surprise.  Kai stumbles back a bit, and Luhan kicks the apartment door open causing it to slam into the nearest wall with a resounding bang. He walks deeper into the apartment just as Sehun appears in front of him.

“What are you doing here Luhan,” Sehun asks, he’s dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and he has a small smile on his lips.

The thing about anger, the thing about Luhan’s anger at least, is that it doesn’t take much for it to flare. All it takes is a brat trying to dissuade him from talking to the other brat, and then having that brat, that blond-headed stupid little brat, smile at him as if Luhan’s a fool, and his temper’s flaring and his heart his pumping the anger to every inch of his body.

He smiles, the smile is probably bordering on insane, but he smiles just as Kai comes in behind him. “Sehunnie, Kai told me you need money help,” he says moving in closer to the boy.

“He did,” Sehun asks eyes flickering up to meet Kai. Luhan eyes narrow as he starts to walk pass the youngest only to have the boy grab at his arm. “Luhan where are you going?”

Luhan swallows thickly. He’s done with the games and lets the calmness he once held slip from his grasp. He glares at Sehun, smile gone and eyes filled with rage. “Get him out now,” Luhan says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking–“

“Don’t kid with me now Oh Sehun,” Luhan says voice dark as he glares at blond. “Get him the hell out or I will personally report you.” Sehun shuffles to his bedroom, opening and closing the door behind him. With Sehun gone, Luhan finds himself staring at Kai.

“A school friend,” Luhan says, sitting down on the brown leather sofa in the middle of the living room. The television is on but had been muted possibly from his arrival.

Kai shuffles beside the furniture, eyes down casted as he stares at the ground, guilt keeping him from meeting Luhan’s eyes. “I didn’t lie,” he says, using such a petty excuse.

“You didn’t tell the whole truth,” Luhan replies. “You don’t know what this can do to him, to you. Are either of you even aware of the people you’re connected to?”

"I’m aware,” Jongin says, “I’ve never stopped being aware, it’s just Sehun is…Sehun is like a brother to me. Even if I don't approve completely I'm not going to turn my back on him."

Luhan starts to reprimand him when Sehun's bedroom door squeaks open. He turns in his seat, eyes narrowing as Sehun exits first. Luhan can see the male behind Sehun, fingers holding tightly onto Sehun's sleeve like a child afraid of being abandoned.

The male mumbles, his voice low and the language foreign. Luhan frowns deepen just as Sehun gazes up to meet his eyes. "If he leaves, I need to take him," Sehun says, "he doesn't have much money and this is his first time outside of the Red Light."

Luhan gazes from Sehun to the boy that stands beside the youngest with his eyes directed towards the ground. The Imperfect boy is tall even though his posture has him pulled into himself.  His shoulders are broad and he looks a little underweight, but the only thing that seems fragile about him was the fearful expression he wore on his face.

Luhan had wondered about the Imperfect Sehun was risking his life for, he expected the person to be small, smaller than Sehun and possibly even himself, underweight to the point where bones looked like they were fighting their way to the surface of his skin. He'd expected someone that was the utter image of fragility, a person that could make even the coldest man's heart twist in sympathy. He wasn't expecting a man that looked like he could and has been taking decent care of himself. The only thing weak about this Imperfect was the way he held himself, he could easily be spotted as a lesser being not because of his DNA, but because of his near submissive stance.

Luhan wants to scream at Sehun, the anger is coursing through his body again, it's like molten lava with the way it moves under him, burning and setting fire to his insides. He wants to beat sense into Sehun, but instead he can only say "he doesn't speak our language." His voice is low and slightly hoarse as if all the internal screaming has already taken its toll on his vocal cords.

"He understands the language," Sehun says. "He can speak pretty well too."

"What's your name," Luhan asks, glaring intently at the boy. The boy's hand tightens on Sehun sleeve and Sehun starts to speak until Luhan turns his glare onto him. "I was asking your pet." Sehun quickly closes his mouth and Luhan turns back to the boy, "your name?"

"T-Tao," the boy answers softly, stuttering just slightly.

"Tao," he says sneering, nearly rolling his eyes in disgust. _Tao_ , is the name of Sehun's future downfall, rather he's executed or imprisoned it will all be because he was enchanted by a too tall, too broad Imperfect named Tao.

"What language do you speak Tao?" The boy answers, but Luhan doesn't understand him of course. When Luhan had first heard him speak, the language had seemed familiar but he figured that recognition came from his few visits to brothels.

Suddenly the anger leaves and all that's left is a sense of despair, he'd done so much to be an older brother figure to the boys, he'd worked to keep them as far away from the harshness of life, and now it was backfiring in the worse kind of way, this wasn't two kids partying in the Red Light, this was law breaking.

"I can't," he breathes out, feeling the fire leave his body. His eyes flicker to Kai, who’s still standing quietly beside the sofa, before allowing his gaze to linger on Sehun. "I can't," he repeats the sadness and exhaustion catching up to him. "My friend is...my best friend he'll..." he drops his gaze then, hands curling into tight fists as he forms words in his head.

"Do what you want," Luhan finally says. "I can't stop you, but I can't protect you as well. My friend works for National Security, if there's a chance that I have to choose between you and..." He trails off, squeezing his eyes shut, and swallowing deepily to dislodge the words in his throat. "If I have to choose, I'll choose what's right."

He glances up then to meet Sehun's eyes and is stunned at the amount of sadness he sees pooling in his dark brown irises. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply once more before heading towards the apartment's exit with Kai on his heels.

"You're not going to tell are you," Kai asks.

"Of course not," Luhan answers. "I wouldn't go out of my way to see you get hurt."

"But you won't help us if we get caught," Kai asks.

"You remember Yixing," Luhan asks. "I've known him since I was eleven. It's not like knowing each other since diaper days, but he means to me what Sehun means to you. He works for CNS and decided to turn a blind eye on this. If something happens, I can't betray him."

Luhan breathes in deeply and gives the smallest smile to Kai. "Look out for him okay? Look out for yourself as well. I don't want to hear about you in the news unless it's entertainment reports."

"We'll be fine," Kai promises. The smile he flashes Luhan is so full of naivety that it pains him to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CNS- Caelum's National Security  
> I haven't reposted the author notes, so there may be things I've clarified on AFF which may confuse you on here. If there is, please tell me.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Luhan lets the day burn around him as he thinks over and over about what to do with the two younger models. He has no real relation to either of them, if he’s honest he probably shouldn’t care, but over the few years they’d been together Luhan had truly grown fond of both boys, and knew it was impossible for him to just ignore things.

It isn’t until darkness settles in the sky and he’s done mindlessly staring at the television that Luhan decides he needs a break from his cycling thoughts of Kai and Sehun. After a very quick drive and a message sent to Minseok, Luhan finds himself in Nessen's multi-level parking deck, waiting for the secretary to finish work. However, the change of scenery doesn’t stop his thoughts from going back to Sehun and Kai once more. He can't talk about it to a soul and it annoys him.

It's not that he wants to gossip, he finds no need to tell others just because he can’t keep a secret. He wants to see if there's still a chance to protect them, if there’s a loophole that can protect them if the authorities get involved. He's heard that occasionally when caught helping Imperfects, Perfects will put all the blame on the Imperfect and it could lead to a period of time where they're under a surveillance like rehabilitation, until they were able to become free citizens once more.

Yet Luhan knew that Sehun wasn’t the type, as foolish as he was, Sehun would go down with Tao before he forced all the blame onto the Imperfect. A knock against the glass of his car window breaks him out of his thoughts and he turns to find Minseok peering into the car.

"What's wrong," Minseok asks when Luhan unlocks the door and lets him inside.

"Nothing," Luhan mutters starting his car.

"Nothing," Minseok repeats with a questioning tone. "Why are you here then, where are we going?"

“I was in the area and I figured I’d drive you home,” Luhan explains. “Have you eaten? Should I stop somewhere?” He peers gingerly at Minseok before driving in the direction of the parking deck’s exit.

“Are you sure you’re okay,” Minseok presses, the secretary’s eyes shining bright with concern. “Something seems off.”

“I’m fine,” Luhan replies, drawing emphasis on the statement. “My day was a bit crazy, but I’m fine. Should I stop?”

“Don’t,” Minseok replies. “The traffic is terrible around this time. The longer we wait, the longer it’ll take to get me home.”

“You’re supposed to make me not want to stop,” Luhan teases.

The air is tense with them, and the usual light and flirty banter that they tended to engage in sounds forced whenever they try. Luhan’s not sure if it’s completely his fault or if their slight uncomfortableness is a result of their night and morning together.

The traffic is terrible on both sides of the freeway. There are people driving towards the commercial districts for another night of fun and partying, and there are people driving towards the more residential districts to return from work. Cars are going well below the speed limit as they inch onward towards their destinations.

“Did you enjoy the party last night,” Luhan asks when the pop song on the radio ends and the DJ begins speaking.

“It was interesting,” Minseok compliments, a smile gracing his lips as he recalls Luhan’s party. “Your friend, Yixing, was a very interesting drunk. I expected people with so much power to be a lot scarier.”

“The only scary one is Kris,” Luhan says, “and even then he’s utterly soft inside.”

“And you,” Minseok says.

“What about me,” Luhan asks, quickly glancing towards Minseok, his eyes raised in question. “Do people think I’m scary?”

“Some do,” Minseok admits, “Some think you’re arrogant, some think you’re stupid. Lots of people have very contrasting views of you.”

“Have you heard any good things about me,” Luhan asks, he knows his reputation precedes him, he’d seen the looks many people have given him, and the fact that he usually kept to himself was doing nothing to help his damaged reputation. He’d never cared about his reputation and despite the fact that Minseok seemed to indulge in the rumors, Minseok didn’t seem all too bothered about the falsified tales.

“From Nessen’s workers I was told you’re very good looking in person. Jongin is the only other person that has spoken highly of you to me,” Minseok explains.

Luhan frowns lightly at that confession, his hand gripping the steering wheel harder. “Does he,” he asks, voice softer than he intended it to be.

“Yeah,” Minseok says nodding, “he respects you a lot. Sehun does as well, but he’s a bit more reserved when it comes to talking about you. I think he might have a crush.”

Luhan snorts a little, and a bittersweet smile graces his lips at Minseok’s words, his thoughts wandering away from him once more as he begins to think about Sehun and Kai’s current dilemma.

Once they cross the river the traffic dies down, and Luhan exits the freeway in District Seven.

“Where in District Eight do you live?”

“Close to the river,” Minseok says, “but at the very end of the District. I live practically on the border of District Nine and Eight.”

********

Minseok’s house is a pale chipping blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. It’s one of four lonely houses on the street and across from it sits a large empty park. District Eight seems barren and neglected at night. There is an emptiness to the area and with its slightly crumbled streets, tree roots sticking out of broken sidewalks, and busted streetlamps, it looks abandoned.

Beside Luhan, Minseok fidgets in his seat. Luhans turns his attention from the empty streets in front of him to the boy beside him. “I like you,” he says, attempting to start up the conversation he had been meaning to have since President Kim barged into his apartment.

Minseok freezes and Luhan frowns at the action, watching as Minseok turns towards him with wide confused eyes.

"I find you interesting," Luhan compliments slowly, gaze intense as he stares at Minseok, observing his every movement. "You're cute, you're funny, and I like talking to you."

"You aren’t trying to confess to me are you," Minseok asks. “You mean in a friendly way right? You like me as a friend?”

“What if I meant in a lovers type of way,” Luhan asks. “I don’t kiss many of my friends.”

“I’d reject you,” Minseok says. "I'm not able to love you in the way you're used to. We don't fall in love like you do, we have a lot more to lose." Luhan’s a bit confused by Minseok’s use of the word _we_ , but he figures that he’s talking about the people who live in District Eight.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not asking you to love me," Luhan says, laughing a bit forcefully. Even though he wasn’t trying to confess his love, the fact that he was still rejected did hurt a bit. "I find you interesting in a way, that's different then when I'm in a relationship with a person. You're not exactly my type Kim Minseok."

"Yet you still want to kiss me," Minseok points out.

"Only occasionally," Luhan replies. "Can we be friends?"

"What kind of friends," Minseok asks. "The kind that kisses occasionally, the kind that doesn't kiss at all, or the kind that kisses often?"

Luhan laughs at the question and faces Minseok, "I wasn't aware that there were so many options for friends."

"I find you fascinating," Minseok admits, "and you're a pretty good kisser, but..."

"But," Luhan presses quirking his eyebrows.

"You're from Two and I'm from Eight. This is where I live, my father works in a factory not too far from here. Any type of relationship between us, friends or lovers, will just wear into frustration once we get passed this whole shiny new interest stage."

"You don't want to be friends," Luhan asks.

"I didn't say that," Minseok says sharply, turning to frown at Luhan, “I’m just warning you now that I’ll be different than your other friends.”

“We were already heading down a somewhat different route than normal friends,” Luhan says. “Things kind of amplified when I kissed you.”

"Drunkenly kissed me," Minseok clarifies, "and I not so soberly kissed back. Sometimes friends kiss. Look if you want to call me your friend that's fine, I already refer to you in the same way. I'm just telling you now so you won’t be surprised, that even though you see me differently than your former lovers, our friendship can end up being just as fleeting."

"Why does that matter if we're friends now," Luhan asks. "The future is uncertain, we shouldn't worry ourselves over it."

"Such a District Two mindset," Minseok mutters a small smile making its way to his lips. "We've been sitting outside a while now, I should probably go in."

"Wait," Luhan says before Minseok can make a move. "I've been wondering this since earlier today. What exactly is your relationship with President Kim?"

"I'm his secretary," Minseok replies, simply.

"Is that all," Luhan asks. "It seemed strange."

"Doesn't your relationship with President Kim also fall into that category? None of the other celebrities spend as much time in his office. No other has received as many restrictions as you do, or personal talks."

"His company is renowned because of models, he's stricter with us than others."

"Oh," Minseok mutters, eyebrows drawing together and head cocking slightly. "Is that so?" He doesn't sound as if he believes Luhan and Luhan doesn't blame him, only an idiot would believe that, especially if they worked within the company. Minseok was President Kim's right hand at the moment, he saw all, heard all, but knew very little. Luhan didn't want to know what Minseok thought his relationship with President Kim was.

“It is,” Luhan answers.

Minseok nods casting his eyes away from Luhan to look at his home. “I’ll return your suit once I wash it.” Luhan looks then at the gunmetal grey suit and frowns. The tension is there again, feeling like velvety hands pressed to his throat, making it hard to breathe or even say a word.

He nods, and Minseok bids him goodbye, exiting the car. He sits there for a minute, watching as Minseok walks up to his house and disappears into the brightly lit inside and then focuses back on the barren streets of District Eight. He wasn’t particularly disappointed, Minseok had seemed pretty difficult to woo from the very beginning, and if he had to prove that he was a good and decent friend so be it.

Kissing Minseok had helped Luhan realize that his feelings ran a bit deeper than just friends, but he was used to a certain type of lover, and Minseok wasn’t that. It had felt odd to be rejected with his hypothetical confession, but there were parts of him that felt relieved. There were things he didn’t know about Minseok, things he couldn’t understand. Minseok would be an unpredictable lover, and even though Luhan was intrigued by that prospect, he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle such a thing.

Despite dropping Minseok off, Luhan doesn’t leave District Eight, he drives around for a bit, until he comes across familiar streets, streets he hadn’t been down in years, which ignites a stifling feeling of nostalgia. There’s an elementary school, the red brick two-story building blocking out the moon and seeming even more intimidating then Luhan remembers.

Luhan drives pass it, fragmented memories of walks from school to home filtering through his mind, as well as his classmates. There were 20 other kids in Luhan’s grade when he was 10, maybe one of them had been Minseok.

The house he stops in front of ten minutes later is vastly different than Minseok’s home with slightly chipped paint. District Eight houses weren’t built to last long especially without proper care. The tall spiraling buildings in the richer districts would last for decades even if abandoned, but the homes in the poorer districts would start to fall apart without maintenance.

The house in front of him is a mixture of chipped white paint, and dark grey. The lawn which used to be a beautiful earthy green and vast with tons of pretty wildflowers, looks just as empty and abandoned as the house. It’s a dull dead brown, the few bushes are bare of leaves like dried bones with no skin.

 Luhan turns his car off and gets off, letting himself be hugged by the cold of the night. The gate of the house has been broken, and the path to the steps is uneven now. Luhan does his best to climb the three cracked and split steps without tripping and falling. One window is empty, the glass is gone, and the other, poorly boarded up with a hanging yellow wood covering.

The house is easy to get into which isn’t surprising. It’ll be like that for a while until the city can get back to boarding it up. Homes like this were perfect hideaways for the Red Devils, fugitives, and other types of homeless people, needing to cover from the cold and the public’s eye. It upsets him to imagine unknown strangers, walking through the rooms, looking at things, they weren’t supposed to. Were the photo albums still in the Master bedroom? Under a loose floorboard was a tin box filled with letters. Had that been found?

The inside of the house is shrouded in utter darkness, no light enters in since there are barely any lights outside as well. It’s chilling and seems empty and spacious, but if Luhan closes his eyes he can see all the furniture in its proper place, and the lights and colors. If he tries hard he can feel that carefree and happy feeling of his childhood, can see the younger him running into the house after school, and telling his father of his day, silly little nonsense tales that his father paid full attention to. He can still smell the unwavering stench of cigarettes that lingered in the kitchen, and carried through the rooms when his father lit a new one.

He lingers at the threshold, unsure of if he should move deeper inside, maybe look for the box of letters, or the photo albums. He decides a moment later to leave, and he steps back and heads down the broken steps. There was no point in looking for things of that sort, no point in finding things of the past. Nothing would change, Luhan wouldn’t get his father back, or his easy unknowing childhood.

When he’s back in the familiar warmth of his car he gives one last look to the house, and a new memory slips into the forefront of his cognizance. A memory of a young Luhan dressed in black, brown leather-bound book pressed to his chest and suitcase beside him as he waited for the new father he’d have, the _Perfect_ one, that wouldn’t suddenly abandon him.

With a shaky breath he closes his eyes and tries to do away all with his thoughts and emotions. There was no time to take a trip down memory lane or feel sorry for himself. He had more pressing things to deal with at the moment, and if he got wrapped up in those thoughts and feelings, it would be hard for him to escape them.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Kris’ family owns two homes in District One. The first is the home that his father lives in, a rather huge home located on the other side of the district, away from all of the others’ childhood homes. The house Kris lives in is just as huge, it was the home he’d meant to grow up in with his parents, and it became the home he’d moved into when he was sixteen.

Kris home is heavily fenced in, all the homes in District One are surrounded by giant black brass pickets, and high-tech security systems, but Luhan’s spent so much time at Kris’ that it’s been a rather calming and comforting sight for him.

A servant opens the door of the tall home and greets him with a deep bow upon seeing him. Luhan, like usual, nods his acknowledgement and passes the servant, heading deeper into the home. The house is sparsely decorated like many large houses. The wealthy of Caelum were materialistic people at their finest but their faux humbleness and disgust of clutter and trash stopped them from overly decorating their homes. Even then huge homes were decorated splendidly in some of the most expensive artifacts they could get their hands on.

Luhan's home in his late childhood was decorated in the same manner, boring and yet incredibly menacing. Everything in Luhan’s late childhood had held an air of intimidation, reminding him that he was not allowed to touch, that he was not to really belong.

"You're really determined to make me behind on my work aren't you," Kris asks, his voice is rough as if he'd been using it all day but it carries easily to Luhan. Luhan glances up and approaches the stairs Kris stands at the top of.

"You're the one who came out here to greet me on your own accord," Luhan states a smile on his lips. "I've done nothing so far to bother you. I know the room I'll be staying in." He reaches the top of the stairs and looks into Kris eyes with fond amusement.

"What are you doing here," Kris asks.

"See," Luhan says, with a teasing lift to his tone. "You've stopped on your own accord just to gossip."

"It's not gossip if I'm looking to figure out what caused you to come here tonight." Luhan leans against the railing and sighs softly his gaze falling to the floor below him, and his air of playful amusement slipping away.

"I'm tired," Luhan says. "I didn't want to go home or go out."

Kris wraps an arm around Luhan's small shoulders and leads him towards one of the spare bedrooms. "Will you tell me why or should I just leave you to fight for your sleep?"

"You can help tire me out," Luhan jokes in a suggestive manner, he enters the room first and beckons for Kris to follow him in. "If I did something stupid enough to get me killed would you still stand beside me?"

He falls onto the bed, every ounce of tension leaving his body as his limbs meet the fluffy sheets below him. The bed in Kris's spare room has both a familiarity and foreignness that soothes Luhan.

"Are you planning something foolish," Kris asks. "I can deal with everything you already do, the drinking, sleeping around, and partying is fine even though I'd rather you didn't. If you plan on doing something that you know will get you killed then I'll just find a way to stop you."

"Are you threatening me Kris," Luhan asks, a small laugh bubbling from his lips. "That was just a 'what-if' question, I'm not planning to do anything particularly foolish."

"What did you even do today," Kris asks sitting on the bed beside, "why are you asking strange what-if questions?"

"Minseok spent the night at my place," Luhan recalls.

"The secretary," Kris asks.

“I think he might be more than just a secretary,” Luhan admits his suspicion.

“What does that mean,” Kris asks. “If he isn’t just a secretary then what is he?”

“President Kim came to my apartment,” Luhan says. “He said some strange things about Minseok. It’s a silly suspicion, but…”

“Minseok is President Kim’s right hand, so it makes sense for you to be suspicious,” Kris says interrupting him. “President Kim also a very conniving person.”

“So I’m not paranoid,” Luhan asks.

“Well what they might be hiding might not even be anything serious,” Kris states. “Anyway, I know you’re not here to talk about what President Kim may or may not be hiding with his personal secretary. Will you tell me what you’re really here for?”

Is it really that strange,” Luhan asks. “If the person you were interested in happened to work with your father would you not be suspicious?”

“I wouldn’t be interested in anyone that works directly for my father on principle,” Kris states.

“Well, you’ve always had better control than me,” Luhan remarks. “Don’t you have work you need to finish up?”

Kris nods his head and stands. “Sleep well Luhan."

"Don't work too late," Luhan replies.

Luhan wakes in the middle of the night, eyes snapping open in frantic panic and breath coming out in short harsh bursts. The room is an unlit inky black, and Luhan can see it’s still dark outside, beyond the large ivory curtains guarding the windows. He hasn’t been asleep for long.

 He dresses in the clothes he’d stripped off before falling asleep and exits the room. The corridors light up as he edges his way to the kitchen, only to find himself stopping in front of the master bedroom. He knocks softly, knowing full well that Kris is more than likely still awake.

He gains a rough "come in," from the other side of the door and enters Kris' bedroom. In the hours since Luhan had fallen asleep, Kris looks worse for wear. Dark circles reach below bloodshot eyes, and his usually pristine hair is ruffled as if he'd been sleeping.

"Are you behind in work," Luhan asks walking over and leaning against the desk. Kris shakes his head and runs a large hand through his hair.

"I'm leading a meeting in a few days with a new client and my father’s going to be there. You had a nightmare?"

"Don't I always," Luhan replies, a tortured smile on his lips.

“They seemed a bit more under control recently.”

“It comes and goes,” Luhan says with a shrug, “If I’m not having terrible dreams, then I’m not able to fall asleep easily.”

"Do you want to try sleeping in my bed," Kris asks and Luhan shakes his head.

"Tell me about Park Chanyeol, Kris,” Luhan challenges.

"There is nothing to tell," Kris replies. "He came to me looking for a job with little experience so I said he could be my intern till he has enough experience for full employment."

"And that's the part I don't understand. Why the sudden act of kindness? Why this Chanyeol?"

"It wasn't an act of kindness. It was an act of desperation, of selfishness. I was feeling overwhelmed and then he'd snuck in demanding a meeting with me so I decided why not use him to lessen the burden. It was a win-win for both of us."

"So attraction played no role in this," Luhan presses.

"Has it ever," Kris replies.

“Have you at least done a background check,” Luhan asks. “Isn’t it a bit suspicious that he would just suddenly appear to you pleading for a job out of nowhere.”

“Don’t try to pawn your paranoia off to me,” Kris replies. “I had Yixing meet him.”

“And he loved him,” Luhan asks with a scowl.

“Well,” Kris says, “Yixing says he seemed as harmless as a bunny. Why do you seem so upset?”

“I’m not,” Luhan replies, “He’s cute, but he seems so open. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Kris laughs then, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “Only you would be uncomfortable by someone who doesn’t seem to have any secrets. You’re supposed to like them Luhan, they’re easier to understand.”

Instead of speaking Luhan frowns, hand reaching to touch Kris' face. The male freezes underneath Luhan's gentle caressing, eyes narrowed in earnest curiosity as Luhan uses his thumb to prod underneath Kris' eyes. "Do you still refuse to see a physician," Luhan whispers in concern.

"You know what I think about them," Kris replies voice stiff.

"I know," Luhan agrees, "but there are these pills, my physician says they help us keep up with the others."

If Luhan's honest he doesn't like referring to the second generation of Perfects as Next-Gens, it sounded like they were better versions of Luhan and Kris, and even though they so obviously were he didn't like being reminded of that. First Gens were as much of a minority as Imperfects, only First Gens weren’t openly persecuted. Their world consisted mainly of the Perfects that didn't kill their hosts at birth. Hosts because mothers who were injected with the very first gene had stopped being mothers and became experiments. The many deaths the first gene had caused had been strictly labeled a terrible side-affect, as if their life meant no more than a loss penny.

"I never needed help in keeping up with the rest and if I remember you didn't either," Kris retorts, focusing back on his work.

"Times have changed," Luhan replies with a cynical chuckle.

"Do you take your sleeping pills," Kris asks with concern.

"That's the thing," Luhan says. "The gimmick. You see if I don't take them and I use one of those energy vitamins then I can't function correctly."

"What do you mean," Kris asks his eyes gaze from Luhan to the expensive computer and back again.

“I don’t think they really give you energy,” Luhan explains. “For me, it feels like it just harness whatever energy I still have, and when the affects wear away, it leaves me really drained. I think for others the affects wouldn’t be much, but for me, because of my sleep issues, it completely shuts down my body, and I’m forced to take a sleeping pill unless I want to be pulled from sleep when I have just enough energy to keep my eyes open.”

"You realize you’re selling the idea of going to a physician well right,” Kris asks.

"You wouldn't have to worry about that," Luhan explains standing with a lazy stretch. "Even with nights like this you still get more sleep in a week than I do without pills. You probably have enough extra energy to be used without draining you.”

He walks with slow languish steps to the large bed in Kris room. He sits down first before immediately dropping to lay on his side. He wants to sleep again, his body is begging for it, but the thoughts in his mind are raging a difficult battle, they’re enticing him, begging him to focus on them rather than the exhaustion. "Kris," he calls out and his voice seems so low that he figures Kris wouldn't hear him, but the tall male hums in acknowledgement. "How do you think Perfects die?"

"What," Kris asks followed closely by the sound of small wheels against the floor. "What kind of question is that? Why are you so obsessed with death tonight?"

"When's a good time to be obsessed with it," Luhan teases. He sits up and meets Kris concerned eyes. "Perfects can't contract Imperfect diseases. Our immune system won't allow it, and there aren’t Perfect diseases." His lips quirk slightly at that. "I don't think it's possible to live forever. We still age, and I can’t imagine how a person living to be 300 years old might look. So, if we can't die from disease and we can't live forever, how does one die? When do we die?"

"I haven't thought about it much," Kris admits, "and I'm a business man, not a physician but I figured we died two ways. One being from external causes..."

"Like murder," Luhan interrupts. Kris frowns at Luhan's blunt words but nods solemnly.

"The second being that our body just eventually shuts down on us, like an old computer. I kind of thought that in the very distant future our hearts would eventually give out on us while we slept." Luhan nods his head thoughtful at Kris words, if there was a way for Perfects to die, those ways all made the most sense. They might have been unable to contract diseases, but they weren’t completely invincible, and neither were their organs, it made sense that things would deteriorate with age, even if it took longer for a Perfect compared to an Imperfect.

He feels a weight settle onto the bed, followed by Kris' hand grabbing onto his own. He looks to their joined hands as Kris calls out to him voice strained and tight. He looks up then, and stares into Kris worried eyes, as Kris looks back, eyes narrowed into a steady stare as he attempts to read the thoughts in Luhan's head.

"Why do you keep bringing up death? You promise you aren't planning to do something foolish right?"

Times like these make Luhan want to pet affectionately at Kris head and assure him that everything will be alright. Kris was his first friend when he'd been inducted into the world of wealthy. Shy and reserved Kris had made friends with shy and fearful Luhan and they were inseparable ever since. They were as close as two people could be without being lovers or family, they understood each other and shared their deepest insecurities with one another. He holds tightly at Kris' hand and gives a smile, it's a sad little smile, but it's meant to reassure Kris and nothing else.

"I promise I won't do anything foolish. I was just curious. I've had these thoughts in my mind for a while and you're the only person I can really talk to about it." His smile changes, it's a little stronger, a little happier. "Looks like I distracted you again,” he teases.

Kris frowns and glares at him. He stands and turns narrowed eyes onto Luhan, “Go to sleep Lu, so I can get my work done.”


	16. Chapter Fifteen

The weekend ends and on Monday morning Luhan finds himself in Kyungsoo’s car heading out of the city. Kai and Sehun both sit quietly in the backseat, but there is still an unbearable tension in the air that even leaves Kyungsoo restless.

Everyone is keeping to their own, but Luhan watches as every now and then Kyungsoo’s eyes avert to the rearview mirror as if looking for answers to the air’s tangible stiffness. The four of them are heading to the only airport within a 50 mile radius. Nessen’s president has arranged a flight for the models, and they’re heading to a city far west, that Luhan has vaguely heard of.

It takes under two hours to reach the edge of the city, the Capital City is huge, and with busy rush hour traffic, what would usually take a good 98 minutes to get from District Two to District Five and the edge of the city, takes 125 minutes due to the early morning gridlock.

The airport is located outside of the city, within Caelum’s inspection station, and Luhan finds himself going through the many tests it takes to get into the city once more. No one really uses the airport unless they're government officials or the highest of the elite, thus plane rides were incredibly expensive. Common people rarely leave the city they were born in and the few who do, do it by car. It was a known fact that moving in and out of cities was extremely dangerous, there was nothing to protect you while you were in the middle of traveling, and rebels were hard to map and predict.

 The waiting area is near empty, huge glass windows showcase the small black asphalt runway, and the small commercial planes that Luhan will eventually be boarding.

********

“What’s wrong with them,” Kyungsoo asks in a hushed whisper when the group finally board their small, yet spacious airplane. There are four other people besides their group and the pilots, two are flight attendants, and two are guards.

“Jealous, Manager?” Luhan asks back just as conspiringly. He casts a glance to the boys sitting across from him. Kai has the window seat, and his hand holding tightly onto Sehun’s, while Sehun rests his head onto the older boy’s shoulder. Neither of them are talking. They look like lovers, and the sight bothers Luhan for different reasons than it bothers Kyungsoo.

Kai looks as if he’d fight the world to protect Sehun from all the evil in it, and it makes Luhan wish he could protect the both of them.

“No,” Kyungsoo replies curtly. “They’re just more silent than usual and clinging to each other, shouldn’t they be excited about their first flight. Do you think they had another fight after your party?”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Luhan says. “Speaking of the party. You’d never guess what happened with me.” He pauses as a video of the pilot comes onto the monitor in front of him. He watches as the male, old and greying, tells of safety procedures, time estimates, and other important things that they should know. He remains quiet as the plane begins to move, knowing that he’ll only be calm once he’s in the air, and even then that calmness will be hanging on a loose thread until they touch down in their destination.

“What happened,” Kyungsoo asks. “If you slept with Minseok then spare me the details. I really don’t care about what you get up to in the bedroom.”

“I bet there are rumors about that,” Luhan says distractedly, he’s looking out of the little circular window beside Kyungsoo’s head, and even though it makes him more nervous he can’t turn his gaze. “I bet they say I’m into some really kinky things. There seems to be rumors about everything I do.”

“If they do I wouldn’t know,” Kyungsoo says, “I do my best to avoid talks about the rumors surrounding you. Tell me about the party.”

“It didn’t happen at the party,” Luhan says, “It happened after. I let Minseok stay the night since he had no other way to get home.”

“Taxis run all night,” Kyungsoo says in response.

“Taxis are a small fortune for District Eight residents,” Luhan retorts. “Minseok feels uncomfortable using my money, so he couldn’t take a taxi. Anyway, I let him stay the night, and the very next day he made me breakfast.”

Kyungsoo eyes narrow, and he looks as if he wants to speak but instead he gestures for Luhan to continue on with his tale.

“We were eating breakfast when President Kim entered.” He says the name of Nessen’s founder low so the younger boys won’t hear.

“Did he hurt you,” Kyungsoo asks, turning towards him with wide concerned eyes.

“No,” Luhan says with a shake of head, “he did threaten me with Minseok.”

“I knew it,” Kyungsoo says, “I told you something like this would happen. What did he say to you?”

“He said that if I listened to him he wouldn’t touch Minseok, but if I didn’t, he would make it so that I never see him again. He said Minseok isn’t who I think he is, but that’s the thing. I barely know anything about Minseok other than where he works and where he lives.”

Kyungsoo's naturally large eyes seem to overtake his small face, as he gazes at Luhan. “Don’t disobey him Luhan,” Kyungsoo says so softly it comes out like a whisper to himself.

“What,” Luhan asks, leaning closer to Kyungsoo in confusion.

“Don’t disobey him,” Kyungsoo repeats, louder now. “If you disobey him he could ruin Minseok’s life. Do you want to live with that hanging over your head?”

“Why do you care,” Luhan asks, eyes narrowing softly. “Didn’t you say that he could be working with the president anyway? Besides if he gets fired would it really be my fault? President Kim is known for going through secretaries.”

“Luhan,” Kyungsoo says voice still soft and worried, “forget what I said okay? Just for a while, if you care about Minseok even a little bit, try and not go against anything President Kim advises.”

“Why not,” Luhan presses, unintentionally moving in closer to Kyungsoo. “What do you know that I don’t,” he asks.

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo replies. “I know as much as you do, but President Kim’s threat worries me. It doesn’t sound as if he’d just fire him. I don’t want that on your conscience.”

“You think he has that sort of power,” Luhan asks, he doesn’t break his gaze from Kyungsoo, but he does settle back into his seat.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says without hesitance. “Who would miss a boy from District Eight? Who would think that someone as high up as Nessen’s president would be connected to it?”

Luhan averts his eyes then, focusing his gaze to the front of the plane as he allows Kyungsoo’s words to sink in. He’d fought away the thought in the beginning, blaming such a drastic idea on his very own paranoia, but now here was Kyungsoo suspecting what he had initially feared, and Luhan was feeling sick to his stomach.

He feels a hand cover his own, and drops his gaze to it, as his hand is squeezed in comfort. “Just do what you can to keep him safe for now,” Kyungsoo says. “Until we can think of something else, or until things end with him.”

“We’re not together,” Luhan states, resting his head onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “What would Junmyeon and Yixing do in this situation?”

“They’re trained professionals Lu,” Kyungsoo says. “You can’t compare yourself and Minseok to them. If anything just wait until we can see just what he has in plan. If it’s really something big, then we’ll figure out how to work about it.”

Kyungsoo squeezes his hand again and Luhan squeezes back. This was why Luhan tried not to dwell on age, he could play like the older when he needed to, but sometimes he needed comfort. Kris wasn’t there to give it to him, and neither was Yixing, so despite Luhan and Kyungsoo preferring to keep their relationship strictly business-like during times like these, he could still count on the younger male to give him a shoulder to lean on when he really needed it.

“Leave,” Luhan whispers. “You wanted to right? If I were you, I’d leave now and as quickly as possible.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Kyungsoo says simply, “I don’t blame you for wanting to.”

“No,” Luhan says, “After the celebration at the end of the month, I want you to go and visit somewhere. The Capital can tear people down and you’re not immune. Go on vacation, see the places you’ve always wanted to see. I can take over your things, but I just think it’s best for you to go for a while especially if you plan to help me with this thing with Minseok. You’re going to need a clear head.”

Kyungsoo frowns, and looks towards Sehun and Kai. “What about them,” Kyungsoo asks. “I can’t leave with them looking like that.”

“It’s a Monday morning,” Luhan says. “By the end of the week, they’ll be fine and I’ll be here to take care of them. I think it’ll be best if you went away for a while.”

“You’re being really ominous,” Kyungsoo says. Luhan knows he’s being cryptic, but he doesn’t want to tell Kyungsoo everything. How does he tell the younger male, about Kai and Sehun’s involvement with an Imperfect, and Luhan’s truly paralyzing fear of President Kim? The models problems alone will be the thing crushing Kyungsoo and Luhan wants to prolong that as much as possible.

********

They touch down in another airport outside of their destination, but Luhan can see the city in the distance. Phoenix City, a city bordered by a said to be indestructible wall, extends upward and not outward. On the surface it seems smaller than the Capital City, but the population was much larger.

The city and the surrounding area is saturated in a deep white fog, to the point where one can barely figure out what’s the smoke coming from the many factories around the city, and what’s the fog. Even the vast imposing skyscrapers were lost in the opaque white fog. Despite it all, Luhan takes notice of how Sehun and Kai strain to see the war ruins below the bridge they cross as they enter the city.

Phoenix City was given its name because it was built in what was once a hotspot during the war. A city had supposedly stood in the very same spot as Phoenix City only to have been burnt down in the midst of fighting. There were still ruins at the base of the wall, in a place called the wastelands, but now the city was nothing but giant buildings, and a series of factories that outnumbered even the ones in the capital. If Imperfects could barely survive in the Capital’s polluted and hazardous air, then coming to Phoenix City must be like being issued a death sentence.

Once settled in the heart of the city, the group heads off to their first photo shoot of the week. They’re taken to a large studio in one of the high-rise buildings where they get their make-up done professionally and dress in the clothes they’re supposed to promote.

Kai leaves first for his solo shoot, and Kyungsoo follows behind him to monitor things leaving Sehun and Luhan in the room alone. With no one there, the tension is thick, and Luhan struggles with figuring out just how to go about breaking it.

“How’s Tao,” he finds himself asking without much thought. He watches as Sehun stiffens at the mention of the Imperfect, and his features darken.

“Why,” Sehun bites out. “Looking for things to tell that friend of yours?”

Luhan’s shoulders sag at the accusation, he can’t find it in himself to be any angrier than he was the other day. He’s upset, and annoyed, but most of those feelings are directed at the situation and not Sehun. “I would never tell him,” Luhan states. “I would never do anything to get you caught.”

“You just won’t do anything to help us,” Sehun states.

“Do you think that’s fair to me,” Luhan asks, voice masked in a loose desperation. “Do you think it’s fair to Kai? To force people in a situation like this? There are rules.”

“Unfair rules,” Sehun says. “Those rules have killed innocent people.”

“What can I do about it,” Luhan asks. “I don’t have any power to protect you, all I can do is keep quiet and hope you know what you’re doing." If Sehun doesn’t know what he’s doing, then they’re all as good as dead, and Luhan doesn’t want to imagine that situation.

He hears the deep sigh that leaves Sehun’s lips and Luhan frowns, glancing towards the vanity mirrors once more. His hair is gelled down, but there are a few strands that have moved out of place, and so he focuses on fixing that.

He’s staying at my place until we get back,” Sehun speaks up. Luhan frowns, and drops his hands from his head. A quick glance into the mirror in front of him shows him that Sehun hadn’t bothered to turn around and meet his eyes again.

“What made you get involve with him,” Luhan asks next. He turns around first, staring at Sehun’s back, willing him to turn around and meet his eyes. How did they even meet?

“I like him,” Sehun says. “Plus, if I didn’t decide to help him no one would have. They have no rights or laws to protect them. Perfects, have full control of them and can abuse them in any way they want. We treat them as if they aren’t even human.”

“Sehun,” Luhan calls out, and this time he steps forward, closer to the boy until he’s right behind him. He watches as Sehun shifts in his seat, turning so that he can peer up at Luhan. “Would you sacrifice yourself for him?”

Sehun falters at that, his eyes dropping as if he’s truly thinking of the answer and it makes Luhan panic. Luhan instantly regrets his question. Sehun’s nineteen, he’s not supposed to be in situations that can get himself killed, and he’s definitely not supposed to be thinking of sacrificing himself for anyone.

“I want to protect him as best as I can,” Sehun says sullenly. “I won’t let him take all the blame for me helping and protecting him.”

Luhan understands what Sehun’s trying to say. He wants to protect that Imperfect, but he doesn't want to die for him, probably doesn't believe that he can die for him. It makes Luhan relax just slightly, tension leaving his shoulders only a little, he'll be as fine as he can be and if he's caught he's young enough to be rehabilitated. No death. No imprisonment.

Luhan can't express his joy, especially with how upset Sehun looks when realizing how deep his feelings seem to run. Luhan rests a hand on Sehun's shoulder, massaging it roughly. "Don't be upset. You don't have to be ready to take a bullet just because you care about someone."

Sehun frowns up at him eyes shining with confusion. "Weren't you upset about this? Why are you trying to make me feel better?"

Luhan starts to speak, but a knocking at the dressing room’s door, prevents him. The pair both turn their head towards the door, just as a staff member peers inside, calling for Sehun. Luhan watches as he stands to his full height, taller than Luhan and looking older with how his face seems impassive.

"We'll continue to talk about this later okay," Luhan says. "Good luck, kid."

The glare Sehun sends him has Luhan chuckling softly. Luhan still doesn’t approve. He doubts he ever will, but he won’t allow his disapproval and Sehun’s stubbornness to draw a rift in their group dynamic, especially with Kyungsoo becoming suspicious.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

It doesn’t take long for Luhan to become quickly accustomed to the new city, and his work schedule. When he wasn’t filming or partaking in photo shoots around the city, he was getting himself acquainted with the city’s dazzling nightlife.

The time within Phoenix City passes by in a whirlwind for the models and their manager, and Luhan eventually finds himself back in his Capital City apartment, the city of smoke and ashes long behind him.

He hadn't completely forgotten his laundry list of Capital City problems. However, being in a new and foreign city had thrown things out of perspective, it had put a veil over things, and obscured them from view. Being away from the Capital City had helped Luhan forget the severity of all the things he’d brush off, up until he was back in his lonesome apartment feeling the heavy weight of secrets and lies clinging forcefully to his shoulders.

Eventually when being alone becomes too much, Luhan finds his distraction in the form of Kim Minseok. A brief conversation through phone messages has Luhan out the door later in the evening, heading to Nessen to see the secretary. The model had returned back to the city long after Minseok’s lunch, and despite the fact that he could have possibly found something to keep him busy in the large company building, Luhan was doing his best to avoid having as little interaction with President Kim as possible. The older man was another of his many problems, and Luhan knew that President Kim was basking in the newfound power he had over him.

When he arrives at the office, Minseok is not sitting at his impersonal modestly decorated desk as usual. Luhan figures that he’s probably on a small last-minute errand, and retires himself to a seat in the far corner of the room, beside the massive glass window. Luhan doesn’t count the time as he waits for Minseok to come back to his desk, but it’s a good five to ten minutes before he hears a door opening and watches as Minseok leaves President Kim’s office.

There is a deep frown on Minseok’s lips, and he stares so intently at the ground it looks as if he wants to burn a hole through the carpet. The sight reminds Luhan of all the times he’d left President Kim’s office in that exact same manner, and Luhan’s sure if he uncurled Minseok’s tight fists, there would be deep red crescents in his palms from every time he clenched his hands to stop himself from speaking out.

“Are you okay,” Luhan asks, eyes still examining Minseok. Minseok’s eyes quickly look up to meet Luhan’s and a smile that resembles a grimace graces his lips.

“I’m fine,” Minseok says, despite the fact that he still appears extremely perturbed in Luhan’s eyes. He looks as if he wants to head over to Luhan, but instead he drops his gaze and focuses on gathering his few things. “Did you wait long?”

Luhan shakes his head and stands, “I’ve only been here for a few minutes. Did you miss me?”

Minseok looks up to meet his eyes once more, as he puts his coat on. There is a hint of a grin that’s very similar to his usual playful personality. “Of course I did, you’re one of the few people that flirt with me every chance you get.”

“Few,” Luhan repeats, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “There are others?”

“Well I’m not a model or anything, but I don’t think my looks are that terrible,” Minseok replies, stepping from behind his desk to stand in front of Luhan.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Luhan says voice barely above a whisper as Minseok smiles at him as if he’s the funniest thing to grace the earth.

Minseok doesn’t speak until Luhan’s lips are pulling back into an uncertain smile, and once he does his tone is an effortless mixture of flirty and teasing. “You’re the only one that gets flustered when I flirt back.”

Somewhere in the back of Luhan’s mind there is a voice reminding him that he and Minseok are supposed to be friends, and friends don’t behave in the way they are. It’s a dangerous road to travel down, but Luhan welcomes the distraction from serious thoughts and emotions, and he’s sure Minseok needs it as well.

He’s curious about the conversation that went on beyond the heavy Oak doors of President Kim’s office, but from his own experiences he’d learnt that it was always better not to ask.

********

As Luhan drives Minseok home, he notices how distracted the secretary seems. Minseok eyes were stuck on the window beside him, lips pulled down into a frown, and Luhan can only assume that he was thinking through whatever had transpired in President Kim’s office. Whatever was going through his head, rather it be President Kim or something else, led to another muting tension within the car. Luhan wanted to say something, speak up and get Minseok from whatever terrible thoughts were running through his head, but at the moment Luhan’s very own thoughts and emotions were distracting him.

“I’m curious,” Minseok announces, as they travel through the city, the traffic lighter than the last time Luhan had driven Minseok home.

Luhan’s eyes flicker to him, but refocuses on the road when he realizes that Minseok hadn’t bother to look at him.  “About what,” he asks.

“What did you do before you met me?” Minseok asks. “When it was too early in the day to go to a club or bar.”

“Well I was definitely working a lot more,” Luhan says, doing his best to keep the bitterness from his voice. As soon as they arrived back in the city, Kai was ushered off to a photo shoot, while Sehun had a couple of his own to worry about come tomorrow. Luhan’s schedule was clear for the rest of the week.

“You’re still not getting any work,” Minseok asks. There’s something in his tone, and Luhan’s not sure if it’s pity or worry. He figures it’s the former, why would Minseok care if he had work or not, the lack of schedules wouldn’t put a dent in his livelihood.

“It’s to be expected,” Luhan says. “I’ve been doing this for years. Most people want the prestige of Nessen representing their brands without the same tired old face.” Another quick glance to Minseok and Luhan sees him biting his lip in thought.

“How long have you been modeling,” Minseok asks.

“Since fourteen,” Luhan answers. He can hear the subtle intake of breath that gives away Minseok’s surprise and can’t help the smile that graces his lips. “I’m President Kim’s biggest asset. That’s why he’s so taken with me.” He knows he sounds arrogant, and sure he could be arrogant to a fault, but the amount of blood, sweat, and tears shed to become Nessen’s Golden Boy had earned him his bragging rights. It wasn’t the job he had wanted, but it was all he knew.

“I guess I understand now,” Minseok says almost as if he’s talking to himself.

“Understand what,” Luhan asks. They finally meet eyes, but Luhan quickly tears his gaze away to focus on the road.

“You’re his favorite,” Minseok tells him. The word seeps into his mind, and sits there for a moment before he really registers it. His first thought is to laugh, he’s far from being anyone’s favorite especially President Kim’s, but he thinks about it more. There is some truth in Minseok’s words, but favorite isn’t the correct term. President Kim had invested time and money into turning Luhan into what he is today, he was highly valuable to the older man, and that wasn’t as great of a thing as it might have seemed.

The pair arrive at Minseok’s house, earlier than the last time Luhan had driven them, and like the previous time Luhan casts a look around the area. The brightest lights come from the distance, where twinkling gold chemical plant and factory lights shine in the dark. The debilitating feeling of bittersweet nostalgia begins to rear up within Luhan, as he turns off his car and looks over to Minseok.

Minseok’s eyes are trained on him, intense and unreadable in the shadowy darkness of the vehicle. “I’ll get your suit,” he says, voice low. Luhan watches as he unbuckles the seatbelt around him and starts to exit the car. He mimics Minseok, and quickly undoes his seatbelt, following after him.

“What are you doing,” Minseok asks, throwing an inquisitive glance to Luhan as the younger male rounds the car and heads towards his house.

“Coming with you to get my suit,” Luhan answers simply.

“My parents are inside,” Minseok points out, as he follows Luhan through the gates of his house and up the steps.

“I know,” Luhan replies. He stops right in front of the door and looks at Minseok in question. If Minseok tells him to wait in the car, then he’ll go back without a fuss, but he needs to say it. Luhan doesn’t want to be left alone in the dark bleakness of District Eight, but more importantly he wants to see what lies inside the only lit house on the street.

Minseok doesn’t tell him to wait in the car, he stares at him as if trying to guess Luhan’s motives and when he’s done he heaves a heavy sigh and moves towards the door.

“I’m home,” the older male calls out softly as he enters, toeing off his shoes in the process. Luhan follows him in, sticking close behind him as he enters a small cold living room. In the middle of a chestnut brown sofa sits a tiny older woman with a blue blanket wrapped around her thin shoulders.

“Mom,” Minseok calls out stepping forward and holding Luhan by the cuff of his sleeve.

Minseok’s mother turns around, a bright smile already painted on her lips, as she mutters a raspy “welcome home.”  When she notices Luhan standing curiously behind Minseok her smile drops, and her eyes shine with confusion. “Who is this,” she asks next, and Luhan can here the fear in her voice as clear as day.

Minseok’s mother is a gaunt woman, bordering on the line of almost too thin. There are wrinkles around her mouth and eyes detailing her age, but the most striking part of her appearance is that one eye is a normal light honey brown, and the other seems to be covered by a cloudy sheet of white.

To cover up the fact that he’d been staring rather blatantly at her bad eye, Luhan gives the woman a small reassuring smile and bows in greeting. If Minseok notices the sudden change in his usually aloof manner, he doesn’t say much and instead rests a hand over his mother’s, and pulls Luhan closer to him.

“This is Luhan,” Minseok introduces. “He’s a model from my company.”

“A model,” she repeats, seeming to relax at his words, she lifts her eyes to Luhan and a hint of a smile resurfaces onto her face. “Ah, well you are rather handsome Luhan.” There’s a lift to her words, a playfulness that reminds Luhan very much of Minseok, and he smiles at the compliment, beaming as he bows his head once more in respect.

“Thank you Ma’am,” he replies. Minseok tugs softly at his sleeve a second later and Luhan straightens up and looks towards him in question.

Minseok isn’t staring at him though, instead his eyes are solely on his mother. “I’m taking Luhan to my room, so that he can get his suit.” His mother remains silent, but eventually she nods her head and turns to face the television once more.

Luhan allows Minseok to drag him along without complaint, and instead takes the chance to look around. Minseok's house isn’t decorated in gaudy accessories. It’s subtle. There are flowers, real inexpensive flowers nestled in water-filled vases, and pretty abstract paintings that aren’t the same old Monet and da Vinci recreations that existed in every District One home.

Beside Minseok’s bedroom is a closed door with bright pink, purple, and yellow flowers painted on it and the cursive spelling of a girl’s name. “I thought you were an only child,” Luhan says once they’re in Minseok’s room.

Luhan didn’t have much of a preconceived idea of how Minseok’s room would look. Minseok was a neat person, it was obvious from the way he’d kept his desk, and his room showed that. There are only a few pieces of furniture, and even less electronics. Just like his desk back at Nessen, his room feels rather impersonal. “Did you stay in this room your whole life?”

Minseok glances at him, and Luhan notices a smile on his lips as he heads over to his closet to get Luhan's suit. “Which should I answer first,” he muses aloud, pulling out a garment bag in the process. “I was the only child my parents were able to keep.” The way Minseok says it, it almost sounds like it wasn’t a painful memory, just a simple unchanging fact, but Luhan doesn’t ask more. He decides maybe he’ll ask later, but for the moment Luhan doesn’t want to turn his visit into something terrible. He had already frightened Minseok’s mother, and the last thing he wanted was to bring up terrible memories from Minseok’s past.

“Yes, I’ve lived here my entire life,” Minseok says next. “I know it’s nothing like your massive apartment.”

“I really wasn’t comparing it to my apartment,” Luhan says, even though he knows Minseok is joking. He was comparing the room though. He was comparing it to his own room from when he was a child. In Luhan’s old house he’d decorated his room with super-stick planet stickers he’d won at school. He’s more than sure that if he had still lived there, some of those stickers would still be on the wall, probably hidden behind something, but still in existence. His own apartment, was still a bit childish in the way it had little sentimental items loitering about. Maybe Minseok tucked all his sentimental trinkets away from prying eyes.

”I don’t really care if it’s smaller than my apartment. It's just I expected to maybe see pieces of your childhood since you've been in this room your whole life."

“Is that why you wanted to come into my house,” Minseok asks. “To see pieces of my childhood.”

“Yes,” Luhan admits, even if that’s only half the truth. “I wanted to see how little Minnie grew up.”

“Little Minnie,” Minseok echoes, barely able to contain his laughter long enough to repeat Luhan’s silly nickname.

“I’m disappointed,” Luhan says, as his lips pull into a fake frown, a twinkle of humor rests in his brown eyes as he continues to play along. He sits himself down on Minseok’s plush bed, hearing the springs squeak softly underneath his weight.

“Are you,” Minseok asks. Luhan opens his mouth to respond, but falters once he meets Minseok eyes dead on. Instead he lets his tongue dart out to lick at dry lips, and notices the way Minseok’s gaze drops swiftly to watch the action, only meeting Luhan’s eyes seconds later. “What kind of friends are we again?”

Luhan’s eyes widen at the question, recalling their previous conversation in Luhan’s car before he had left the city for a week of work. Minseok wanted to kiss him, and was asking if it was okay for them to do it.

Luhan does want to kiss him, he’s just about lightheaded from want. He wants to, but he doesn’t think he has as good as a hold on his feelings as Minseok seems to. Luhan tends to fall hard and fast, and a few noncommittal kisses might not hurt, but he doesn’t want to take a chance when his mind and heart are already warring over what Minseok really means to him.

“I don’t know,” he admits in a near whisper. It’s a bit funny how the air, thick with desire, seems to become lighter, easy to breathe in, and the fluttering in his chest, as if his heart was doing somersaults, seems to ease up only slightly.  Minseok’s eyes lose their intensity as he gives an understanding smile to Luhan.

“Okay,” Minseok says sticking his hand out to Luhan, which he grabs and allows Minseok to help him to his feet. “We’ll figure it out another time.”

Luhan follows behind him silently as he gets lost in his thoughts. The time away from Minseok had given him the chance to put some of his feelings into perspective. Luhan was deeply attracted to Minseok, and Minseok seemed to hold some of that attraction as well, but for their own reasons they were both really reluctant in taking things farther and crossing that invisible line that separated them.

Luhan knows his reasons for being hesitant, his feelings for Minseok are vastly different than his past lovers. He wants the relationship he has with his close friends with Minseok. He wants the easy-going playfulness that they currently have, but he also wants to have the love, the sex, the raw hypnotizing energy, that usually came with a new relationship. He also wanted longevity. With Kim Minseok, Luhan was yearning for something he wasn’t sure even existed.

Luhan breaks from his thoughts when he feels a soft tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. He looks up just as Minseok turns and smiles at him. “My father’s here,” Minseok tells him in warning.

Luhan continues down the steps of the house, following after Minseok once more and stopping in the living room. Minseok’s mother is still sitting on the sofa with her wool blanket tightly wound around her frail shoulders, but beside her sits a man dressed in his winter gear listening as she talks in excited whispered tones.

Minseok calls for them, and they turn to face him, Minseok's mother almost bouncing with excitement, and his father the calmer of the two. Luhan lets Minseok pull him over to the two seated, and takes the time to properly look over the couple in front of him. Minseok looks more like his mother, they have the same eyes, and despite her fragile appearance there is a youthfulness that reminded Luhan of Minseok. Minseok’s father has that common weathered look people who work in factories usually have where the grease of machines have coated them like a second inerasable layer of skin.

Minseok has his father's nature. The man has a strong air around him, he doesn't hold himself as if he's in the lower class, yet he doesn't have any of the pomposity that usually sticks to the upper class.

"This is Luhan," Minseok's mother introduces, with a large smile on her face as if she hadn’t been frightened by him only a few moments ago. Luhan watches from his place beside Minseok as Minseok's father throws his wife a quizzical look. He then turns towards Luhan, and silently studies the model.

"Lu Han," he repeats, staring directly into Luhan's eyes and putting a space in between the two syllables. "Your last name is Lu?"

The surprise comes sudden, and Luhan breathes in a quick inaudible breath. "No," he replies, shaking his head and hoping to disguise the shock he had initially felt. "Luhan is my first name." He can feel Minseok's gaze hot on his skin, and ignores it, instead focusing on Minseok’s father who stares at him just as intently.

The rest of the meeting continues on smoothly, and afterwards Minseok walks him out. "I don't know your surname," Minseok tells him as he follows Luhan out of the door and towards his car.

"I don't have one," Luhan says.

"Everyone has a surname," Minseok replies.

"Saying I don't have one is a lot easier than explaining that I'm not allowed to use my surname," Luhan explains with a sigh. He turns towards Minseok, and smiles just slightly. “How about instead of talking about that, I tell you something about my childhood instead, since you showed me the home you grew up in.”

 Minseok frowns and his eyebrows furrow together slightly, contemplating rather or not he should go along with Luhan’s plan. “Fine,” he says. “Tell me something new about you.”

“I used to live not too far from here,” Luhan tells him. “About ten minutes away I believe.”

The look of disbelief Minseok presents him with has Luhan smile brightening slightly. “You used to live in District Eight?”

Luhan makes an affirmative noise, nodding his head. “It was a long time ago. Now I’m just a boy from District Two.”

Minseok doesn’t speak, but when he does the frown is back on his face. “Why are you telling me this?”

It’s a good question, an understandable question. Luhan’s past wasn’t exactly a secret, but the only people who knew of it were his childhood friends and President Kim. He hadn’t revealed it because he thought Minseok would feel closer to him, knowing they’ve lived in the same place as children. He hadn’t even revealed it to keep Minseok from asking about his surname. The reason he revealed it was because he wanted to.

“You know all these rumors about me,” Luhan starts, “I thought I’d tell you one fact that no tabloid or gossiping coworker of yours would ever know. Plus I wanted to even the score, you let me into something private, and I wanted to do the same, only those I find important know my background.”


	18. Chapter Seventeen

As weeks pass, Luhan still doesn’t get any work. It had gotten to a point where Kyungsoo was sending in his portfolio to people as if he was a rookie model and not already a household name. Despite all the work Kyungsoo puts in, despite all the phone calls he makes, Luhan is never booked, and whenever they ask for a reason behind it, they’re only met with silent and stumbled nonsensical words.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Luhan not getting work is the power of a greater, more powerful force, and despite the fact that Luhan plays the idiot model stereotype well, he knows who’s behind it. It is his punishment for defying President Kim, and even though it is nothing compared to previous punishments, Luhan understands the implications wholeheartedly.

In the meantime, as the weather reaches warm cooling temperatures during the day, but remains cold and icy during the night, Luhan finds himself growing even closer to Minseok. He's not sure if there was one particular thing that caused the shift between them, but he's sure that whatever caused it came from his visiting Minseok's house.

The shift in their friendship is how Luhan finds himself sitting in the park across from Minseok's house on an old rusted bench, with the glow of his phone lighting the small region. As soon as Minseok is ready, they'll be heading to the subway station and riding into District Three to get to the club of Luhan's choice. Compromise is what Minseok said, he was all about compromise and often times Luhan found it cute, but today was not one of those times.

He hears the sound of light foot falls in the silent air and turns to face a puzzled Minseok with a burgundy scarf wrapped around his face. Despite the changing weather, Minseok was still wearing most of his winter gear, from the various types of hats, to his large scarfs that covered most of his face, and thick knit gloves and mittens. Occasionally, like tonight, he’d forgo his heavy parka and wear a lighter jacket.

"What are you doing out here," Minseok asks, gloved fingers hiding in the warmth of his coat pockets. "Why didn't you just come inside?"

"I don't know," Luhan says, standing and shrugging. "Your parents are nice and I'm not. I didn't think I could look them in the eyes knowing their just as nice son might cover tomorrow's tabloids with me."

Minseok is quiet, but Luhan’s sure he’s probably frowning beneath the scarf.  “I’m not that nice,” he mutters, stepping forward and undoing the scarf.

"What are you doing," Luhan asks, just as Minseok steps closer to him. Minseok doesn’t respond at first and just pulls him closer, wrapping the thick cloth around Luhan’s face until only his eyes are peaking through. Minseok’s fingers brush the tips of his ears, before he pulls away, and his frown only deepens.

"You might not get sick, but being a Perfect doesn't stop you from freezing to death, or at least getting frostbite."

"What about you," Luhan asks, narrowing his eyes, for someone who supposedly isn’t nice, giving his scarf up seemed like a pretty big contradiction.

"I wasn't sitting out here for 15 minutes like an idiot" Minseok replies. "I'll live. We should get going though, or else we'll miss the train." Luhan agrees and watches as Minseok starts out of the park.

"Where are you going," Luhan questions after Minseok. "Wouldn’t it be faster to go through the park?" He watches as Minseok turns back to him, eyes straying pass Luhan to stare into the depths of the dark park surrounded by large sprawling trees. With the scarf off his face Luhan not only sees the way his eyebrows crease in apprehension but also how his teeth come out to chew nervously on his bottom lip.

"It's dark," Minseok says simply, eyes shifting over to meet Luhan’s.

"I know," Luhan replies trying to keep the amusement from his voice. "We can use our phones to light the path if you want." Minseok shuffles over to him, the hesitance easing away.

"I'm not afraid," Minseok tells him. "The paths are really uneven. It'll be hard to walk through them in the dark."

"I know," Luhan replies a faint smile on his lips. "You can hold my hand if you want."  He outstretches his hand, and watches as Minseok lips quirk as he stares down at his hand.

"Fine," Minseok says grabbing his hand and staring at Luhan in amusement. "Wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Walking through the largest park in District Eight cuts their time in half compared to walking around it. It's dark at the very beginning, but as the pair get closer and closer to the end Luhan begins to notice how the street lamps begin to dimly light their path.

********

Luhan would openly admit that he had a few preconceived notions on how the subway stations, and the trains would look like. Despite having been underground to basement clubs, bars, and other upscale establishments, he'd imagined, the subway station to be a dark molding place, with leaking pipes and ceilings. The subway was deemed a rather unsafe place, and that's what Luhan's mind conjured up as unsafe. In his imagination, despite the small number of Imperfects still alive and still living in the city, there were groups of them, sneering and hostile at having an intruder in their midst. There had been nothing to rid him of those images, until Minseok decided to drag him down to take a look for himself.

The walls are white, not a pristine white, but it does glow under the overhead fluorescent lights. The floor glows as well as if it was waxed recently. There are no leaking pipes, no ceilings made of dirt and gravel and verging on giving way. If there is mold, Luhan doesn't see it. It's near empty. There are a good four people with them, two young women sit together on a bench talking in hushed whispers. Not too far away from them stands an older man leaning against what appears to be a map, and near the edge of the platform stands a teenaged boy.

"We should only have to take one train into District Three," Minseok says after quickly checking the time. "What do you think?"

"It's looks better than expected," Luhan admits, eyes sweeping the area once more.

"Only the Red Light, and Factory Districts have small badly maintained subway stations," Minseok replies.

The actual train is just as nice as the station, despite the fact that all the seats face each other and if it's crowded you might end up beside a stranger, it's spacious. There are more people inside the train, and a few of them stare openly at him, but Luhan is able to sit beside Minseok, and feel unbothered by the people around him. His reasons to dislike Minseok taking the subway have nearly all died.

"It wasn’t terrible was it," Minseok asks once they hit the streets of District Three.

"It wasn't terrible," Luhan confirms nodding his head, as he leads Minseok to their destination. "I still don't think it's completely safe." Minseok doesn’t respond, instead he smiles, and quickens his pace to keep in step with Luhan.

The pair meet both Yixing and Junmyeon, the moment they get inside the club. The two men already have a table lined with shots in their hold, and the moment they lay eyes on Minseok and Luhan they begin greeting them. Junmyeon, like always, is a bit more subdue. He simply smiles and waves his greetings. Yixing, however, stands to welcome them, hugging both men in his excitement.

It had only been Junmyeon and Yixing who Luhan had invited out in the beginning. His favorite club was in District Three, and hadn’t been in existence the last time the pair were in the city, so it felt like Luhan’s duty, to introduce the two to the place. They loved a good nightclub, and Luhan knew all the best ones.

It was Luhan’s idea to invite the two members of Caelum’s National Security, but it had been Yixing’s idea to invite Minseok.

From the moment Yixing had given him the suggestion, Luhan had been bubbling with excitement at the prospect. It reminded him of when he'd invited Minseok to his party. The anticipation was there again to see Minseok outside of a formal setting, where it was okay to drink, and have more than just a restrained fun. Like many, Minseok was conscious of how he conducted himself in public, but Luhan was determined to break that mask underneath the glow of the club's black lights.

After the greetings Luhan pulls Minseok down into a seat in front of two of the shot glasses. He lifts both and passes one to the secretary. Minseok silently accepts it and stares down at the unknown clear liquid, swishing it about. Luhan can’t help but wonder what’s going through Minseok’s head at the moment. Maybe he’s curious about what he’s seconds away from ingesting, or maybe he's already regretting his agreeing to join.

A quick glance from Minseok proves both of Luhan’s assumptions wrong. Minseok is grinning in delight as he lifts the drink to his lips and downs it in one shot, the look of glee not breaking once as the bitter liquid swims across his taste buds, and trails a burning path down his throat.

It's the shining confidence and amusement that has Luhan realizing that despite Minseok's reserved nature, he's probably as good of a drinker as Junmyeon or at least thinks himself to be. With one last glance at Minseok, Luhan chugs his first shot of the night, with all the same ease, but less of the confidence. His plan to get Minseok out of his comfort zone, seems to have already taken a twist.

After a few more drinks, Luhan’s plans begins unraveling just as he suspected would happen. Minseok maybe reserve during the day, but at night in between the masses of dancing bodies Minseok is a bit more liberated, and a lot more fun. Luhan finds that Minseok didn't mind taking off his professional mask, and what he sees behind it excites Luhan more than the alcohol and deep bass of the music.

Minseok doesn't become a different person at night and under the influence of over-priced alcohol. He's still the same Kim Minseok that works as a secretary, and lives in District Eight. He just appears more at ease, happier and carefree as he's dragged to the dance floor, and given drink after drink. Luhan finds himself intrigued by this new side of Minseok, because despite his still quiet nature, there's an openness, a friendliness, to him that makes it seem as if he had let his wall down for the night. Luhan had been attempting to tear that wall down for a while, and over the course of time, he'd gotten closer to Minseok, but he had never felt as close to Minseok as he did at the very moment. To Luhan it felt as if Minseok was finally beginning to trust him.

********

As the night progresses, the group of four eventually separate. Junmyeon and Yixing both leave first, and rather it’s to go to a different club or to return home Luhan doesn’t know. After Luhan and Minseok finish their last round of drinks, the pair leave the club and hail a taxi to District Two.

The moment they enter Luhan's bedroom, Minseok sits down on the edge of Luhan's bed, he’s staring into nothingness, lips tugged down into a small barely there frown. Luhan follows after him, forgetting to turn the lights on as his concern peaks.

"Are you okay," Luhan asks softly. "You were quieter than normal on the ride here." Luhan can understand why Minseok might be uncomfortable. The last time he had been at Luhan's home hadn't ended as nicely as it could have, but Luhan had volunteered to pay his fare home, promising that Minseok could buy him lunch on Tuesday as repayment.

“I talked to Yixing,” Minseok tells him. Luhan tries his best not to scowl because he knows that no matter how drunk Yixing may get he would never reveal any of Luhan’s darkest secrets, and anything he may have told Minseok was probably said to help Luhan.

“What did he say,” Luhan asks. Minseok is silent and when he takes too long to answer Luhan leans in closer his eyes searching the secretary's in the dark. "What did Yixing say to you," Luhan asks again rephrasing his question.

Minseok still refuses to answer, but he reaches out, fingers caressing Luhan's cheek, eyes straying to his lips as if he's planning to kiss Luhan. Luhan is silent, but his heart is beating harshly in his chest. It feels as if he's just run from one side of the city to another, but even his breathing, faster than usual, is quiet in the dark. When Minseok looks up his eyes are shining with so many different emotions it paralyzes him. He leans in closer, eyes asking all the questions he couldn't voice.

It's Luhan that initiates the kiss, leaning into that short distance that separated them and pressing his lips gently against Minseok's, hesitating for a swift second before kissing him with more confidence and reassurance, hands reaching to cup Minseok's face. His heart jumps when Minseok kisses him back, hands wrapped firmly around Luhan's thin wrists, but not enough to hurt.

The emotions that runs through Luhan makes him want to push closer and pull away all at once. It's overwhelming, and as they draw away to gather air into burning lungs, and calm themselves down, Luhan comes to a bleak conclusion. Minseok thinks they won't last as friends or lovers because they come from two different worlds, but Luhan knows that they won't have a chance of lasting if they want different things.

“We can’t be friends,” Minseok says, as if he’d read Luhan’s thoughts. Luhan is silent for a moment, wondering if Minseok is asking a question, or simply stating his own thoughts.

“We can’t,” he says a second later. “At least not when we’re this way. My feelings for you are different than my past lovers. I can’t kiss you today and pretend like I don’t like you tomorrow. We either be strictly friends or…” he trails off, not sure how to continue. Or what? They become lovers or strangers?

In the beginning Luhan had been worried about putting Minseok in a position where he’d have to choose between friend or lover, afraid that the choice would draw Minseok away from him, but now Luhan realizes this was a choice Minseok would have always had to make, and just maybe it would be better to choose now before Luhan fell any deeper.

“You’ll regret it,” Minseok tells him, and a small bitter smile graces his lips as he refuses to meet Luhan’s eyes. “Being with me,” Minseok begins, but pauses in his speech finally looking up to meet Luhan’s eyes. He’s not smiling anymore, nor is he frowning. “You’ll regret that.”

The rational side of Luhan has been telling himself the same thing since he laid eyes on Minseok. They were so vastly different that the cynic in him figured nothing good would come out of being interested in the secretary, despite their differences being the main thing that drew him to Minseok.

"No I won't," Luhan replies. He'll never regret being true to himself, it's when he does the opposite that the ugly skin-crawling feeling of regret surfaces. Minseok will never be a regret even if he shatters Luhan into a million little pieces in his wake.

Minseok kisses him then, fingers pressing softly into the skin of Luhan’s neck as he guides him into their second kiss of the night. Luhan kisses back just as quickly moving closer and holding on to the hem of Minseok’s shirt, in the back of his mind he realizes that this kiss could be the one that leads into many, many more, or it could be their very last one.

Either way, Luhan takes the time to imprint every last second of the kiss into his brain, from the feeling of Minseok’s lips against his own and the burning sensation of Minseok’s hand against his throat. Rather it’s the kiss that leads to a million more, or the final one, Luhan wants to remember it.

"What does that mean," Luhan asks once they pull away. He’s determined yet almost fearful of what can happen in the next few minutes. "What do you want Minseok? Honestly."

The expression that crosses Minseok's face doesn't look the least bit happy. It's grim and serious, and Luhan can't help but think that maybe he should have had a few more shots, if he was going to have this conversation.

"I want you," Minseok replies.

"How," Luhan asks, eyebrows furrowing, as he stares into Minseok's eyes, waiting and worried. “How do you want me?”

Minseok looks up to meet his eyes, and a hand comes out to grip Luhan's. "In all the ways I’m not supposed to."


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Luhan doesn’t wake to the delicious smell of breakfast permeating through the apartment, or Minseok prodding gently at him. He wakes to bright sunlight rays creeping into his room and warming his exposed face.  In the midst of his half-asleep stupor Luhan listens to the small sounds of Minseok’s movement, letting his memories of last night overwhelm him till it’s hard for him to even fake sleep with how restless he feels.

He moves slowly, the fatigue has long left his bones, yet his moves are hesitant and cautious as if he’s afraid of Minseok’s reaction once the secretary realizes he’s awake. It’s a bit funny, Luhan realizes, and also just a bit sad, that despite his extensive list of lovers, some older and far wealthier than Kim Minseok, all it took was him, a boy from District Eight, to expose all the silly little insecurities Luhan had believed he had long out grown.

Minseok’s back is facing him, and even as Luhan gets out of bed and crosses the vast expansion of his room to get to him Minseok doesn’t turn around.

“What are you doing,” Luhan asks. Minseok is positioned in front of Luhan’s rather tall bookcase, seeming almost captivated by the amount of books he owns.

“You have so many books,” Minseok says in reply, fingers tracing along the spines. He pauses at one book, a large textbook, and pulls it out of its place, quickly flipping through the pages. “Do you understand it all?”

“No,” Luhan admits, the slightest bit of shame washing over him. “Junmyeon and Yixing used to bring them to me, to help me sleep.” Minseok puts the book back and continues gazing at the book case, hands stopping once more, and this time on a book of a smaller size.

“Is this yours,” He asks, fingers slipping down the spine to reveal the unnamed book to Luhan. Luhan reaches pass Minseok and grabs the book himself. He holds the brown leather bound cover to them, right hand playing with the small loop a strap was supposed to go through to keep the book closed from prying eyes.

“No, he replies, opening the first page to reveal a date, _October 15, 2174_. “It was my mother’s,” he explains, eyes tracing along neatly written words in a language he couldn’t understand.

The moment Caelum was created, so was a new language, adapted from what is now considered to be ancient languages. In the past it wasn’t uncommon to hear people speak both the official language and the language of their ancestors, but with the introduction of Perfects, and the Imperfects refusal to assimilate, speaking anything but the official language became taboo. Like all Perfects, Luhan was able to learn and adapt to language well, but his mother’s language had no connection to any of the languages Caelum used, so learning it on his own was near impossible.

“Can I see,” Minseok asks, and Luhan hands over the journal he usually kept hidden from sight. As Minseok gently turns from page to page, Luhan frowns down at the book from over the older male’s shoulder. It was one of his most prized possessions, so sacred, he’d screamed at lovers that dared to touch it, and immediately broke up with those that didn’t heed his threats and attempted to read through the unfamiliar text.

“Can you read this,” Minseok asks, eyes skimming along page after page. Luhan wraps his arms around Minseok’s waist and attempts to read it over his shoulder, despite already knowing the outcome.

“No,” he says a moment later, shaking his head and then resting it on Minseok’s shoulder. He observes the way Minseok’s eyes stare unwavering down at the book in his hand, concentrating on the words in front of him.

“Do you want to know what it says,” Minseok asks next. Luhan eyes stray from staring at Minseok to glance back at the book. What had once said October, now reads March of the next year. If Luhan’s honest, he had always longed to read the words written in the journal, to learn and understand the thoughts of the woman he had never met. To finally get better insight on the woman he called mother, other than the few creased pictures he had found, and his father’s pained nostalgic tales told to a kitchen wall because he couldn’t bear to look at the boy who shared her sunny smile.

Eleven-year old Luhan, who saw that book as his only salvation after having his world turned upside down would have begged to have an understanding of who she was, instead of relying on hazy imagined images of her saying things he guessed a mother would say, when he felt alone and frightened in his new home.

Eight year old Luhan, who had just been Han then and wrote in sloppy handwriting unsent letters wondering if heaven was nice and if she missed them, because he and his dad missed her, would have loved to know about the entries.

“No,” he mumbles, looking up to catch Minseok’s eyes when he feels his gaze on him. He pulls away just as Minseok closes the book.

Twenty-three year old Luhan, doesn’t want to know her inner most thoughts. He doesn’t need a translator to tell that towards the end, are words of excitement, anticipation, and blissful ignorance at meeting her first born, her baby boy. The last entry was written two days before his birth, and Luhan was sure that even then she had no clue that the child that was supposed to bring her the utmost joy, who she had probably pledged to love unconditionally, would be the one to bring her to an early grave.

He didn’t think he could stomach reading that, and yet he still held on to it, because that was the only thing he had to remind him that he did have a mother once.

Luhan watches as Minseok places the book back in its place on the shelf and turns to face him, eyes shining with an unreadable emotion. “I’m hungry,” Minseok says a second later, a small sheepish smile on his lips.

The change in attitude catches Luhan off-guard and he’s sure he feels his eyebrows raise in mild confusion. “Do you want to go out or…” he trails off, not really sure what the change in conversation means or even if he’s saying the right thing.

“Let’s stay in,” Minseok suggests, stepping closer to Luhan, the smile more confident, and his eyes soft, the once unreadable emotion lost. “I’ll make something we both can eat.”

********

"Where did you learn to make this," Luhan finds himself asking. He had helped Minseok prepare the meal by cutting up vegetables and doing other mundane kitchen tasks and although he had no idea rather or not he'd get sick after the meal, Minseok had assured him that he would probably be fine.

"My mother is ill," Minseok says. "She can't eat certain foods either, so I figured if it's safe for her to consume it would be fine for you, no matter how weak your stomach might seem to be."

Luhan's father died over ten years ago, and Tao, the tall submissive boy, has been the first Imperfect he has been in contact with since his father's death. Luhan does know, despite his limited contact with them, that the moment an Imperfect is diagnosed with an illness it was a countdown until their death. All supposed cures and medicines for Imperfect illnesses had been lost, and Luhan knew that even if they existed, taking a family member to one of the official clinics was like signing a death certificate. In a world that wanted all Imperfects dead there were no exceptions given to anyone.

"Is that," Luhan begins, trailing off a second later, unsure of how to continue his question with tact.

"I'm surprised it took you so long to ask anything," Minseok says with an encouraging smile. "No, that’s a separate thing as well. She’s blind in that eye, but we're not sure if it's a symptom of her illness or a separate one. The people we talk to can't run the proper tests."

"I'm sorry," Luhan mutters, eyes drifting down to the food in front of him.

Minseok doesn’t reply at first, Luhan can feel his gaze, but Luhan doesn’t look up. Terrible thoughts cloud his mind. Thoughts so terrible that if ever voiced would have him arrested for treason. They had always been taught to love and respect Caelum and their Great Ruler unconditionally. It was him that had ended the warring for good, and had forged a new way of life in a rapidly changing world. Luhan had never questioned it, found no desire to, but as he grew it didn’t take much to realize that what they were taught as schoolchildren had been nothing more than pretty lies and gross exaggerations.

********

 "Tell me about your previous lovers," Minseok commands gently as he's pulled down into Luhan's side, the television set to an entertainment news channel, volume a near hum in the otherwise quiet apartment. "Any new tabloids for you."

"None," Luhan replies, pulling him closer, but holding him loose enough that Minseok can move away whenever he wants. "Apparently it'll take more than a bit of dirty dancing to get my name in the headlines again."

Minseok lips quirk just a bit as he shifts even closer to Luhan. "Tell me about your ex-lovers," he repeats.

"They're nothing compared to you," Luhan replies, he watches as Minseok rolls his eyes, and then rests his head on the secretary's shoulder almost completely pressed into him.

Minseok laughs, arms looping around Luhan's skinny frame, and Luhan grins to himself. If Minseok can stand his sudden shift into a clingy child without running away and never looking back, then Luhan doubts he'll ever be able to let the older male go. Most of his previous lovers had never gotten a chance to see such a side of him because they usually had preconceived notions on how Luhan was as a lover. Minseok was different because he wasn’t with Luhan because of superficial reasons like his looks.

"I'm sure you've said the same to all the others,” Minseok says. He's teasing Luhan and the model smiles, not feeling offended in the least.

"Nope," he replies. He wonders if talking about previous lovers is appropriate for a relationship that has only started under 24 hours ago, but he figures why not. He should get most of the important things out of the way now instead of later. He wanted Minseok to know what he was getting into, to assuage some of his worries, besides it wasn't like Luhan was about to name all the people he had slept with, if Minseok was curious about that he's sure he'd be able to create a comprehensive list from rumors alone.

"It was only ever physical and a way to keep the loneliness at bay," Luhan says. Luhan doesn’t look up as he speaks, but when Minseok doesn’t say anything he lifts his head to catch his eyes.

"Don't look so surprised," Luhan says frowning slightly. "I'm not ignorant to my fears or issues. It doesn't make me proud, but I won't lie about it." He knew why he kept a certain type of lover and he knew why they kept him. They wanted him because he was beautiful and wealthy, and he wanted them because they were easy to replace and easy to please. They weren't inspirational relationships, but they kept him occupied when work didn’t.

"That's terrible," Minseok says. He doesn't sound as if he's judging Luhan. He sounds astonished, as if he couldn't believe that Luhan would choose such a way to remedy his problems. Maybe in District Eight most people did things differently. It wouldn't be much of a surprise, the Red Light wasn't a thriving district because of the people forced to take the subway to get around.

"It is," Luhan confirms. "It is a way of life. It was my way of life."

Minseok frowns, but asks the one question Luhan had been waiting for. "Why?" Luhan thinks of Kris who buries himself in work to avoid as much human interaction as possible. He thinks of all his past lovers and how satisfied he felt from the superficial love and compliments he would receive.

"Because I'm a First Gen. Because we're defective creatures by nature." Luhan pulls away from Minseok, far enough that he can see his face without any extra strain, but close enough to still be touching.

"You’re not defective," Minseok tells him, and maybe he isn't, but he isn't perfect. Those that came after are perfect, but First Gens were their dumber, weaker, more emotional predecessors. They were nothing but glorified Imperfects, with rights and no fear of persecution as long as they chose the right side. All First Gens wished they were next Gens, wished they could control their flaws, but knew they couldn't.

"It's okay," Luhan tells him. "We don't need to talk about that. Not now." _Not ever_.  "You wanted to know about my ex-lovers, and now you know why it's different with you." As soon as the words leave his mouth he realizes how horrifying it sounds. Not for him, but possibly for Minseok. He didn't know how serious they were aiming to be, and the Luhan of the past would shy away from lovers that looked like they were becoming too attached, falling too deeply when all he wanted to do was mess around a bit.

As it seems Minseok isn't too horrified, and Luhan figures this out when he's lying back on the sofa, Minseok on top of him, lips against his own. It's their most intimate kiss as of yet, bodies pressed flush against each other’s and lips in a silent conversation of desire and care. Luhan doesn't know what made Minseok change his mind about them, doesn't know how serious Minseok intends to be about them, nor how long they'll last. None of those things are problems like he first thought they'd be. Things could end tomorrow, and yes, he would be heartbroken and upset, but he believes he'd also be satisfied knowing that he at least spent today cherishing what they have. Whatever it is that they have.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

At 8 o’clock in the morning and not a second late, the beginning notes of Caelum’s National Anthem rattles through the thick walls of Luhan’s apartment building, loud and rousing the city from slumber like a universal alarm clock.

Even with his eyes closed and a pillow pressed tightly over his head to both block out the song and hopefully smother himself into deep unconsciousness, Luhan can still recite every word verbatim. The national anthem was played in all schools, early in the morning right before students begun classes. The instrumental was also played in planned intervals throughout the news broadcast channels.

Despite the high soprano voices singing praises for their leader and savior, Luhan somehow manages to hear his cellphone give off a low two-second ring. The model lets a tortured groan slip pass his lips as he sticks his hand out for the device on his nightstand, hoping it’s anyone but President Kim. At the moment luck seems to be on his side, because instead of a berating message from President Kim, Luhan receives a cheeky message from Yixing and despite wanting the day to be over with, he can’t help but let an affectionate smile grace his lips.

_Happy Day of Sovereignty! I bet the CNS never looked as good to you as it does today. Can’t wait to hear all about your time at the gala._

The Day of Sovereignty was one of only two holidays for the country. It was a day celebrating the formation of Caelum after the last battle in the Great War. It was a day to celebrate not only the Great Ruler, but also the many veterans that belonged to a disbanded army. To commemorate the day, there were many small celebrations, but most people tuned into the parade of dated military weapons and their modernized counterpart.

What had initially started as a celebration and promise of an ended war and peace to come, quickly evolved into a show of government power with the rise of the rebellion. Despite the disbandment of an official military force, there still existed two police divisions. The first being National Security which dealt with all things Red Devils and terrorist related. The second being District police, which dealt with petty crimes within the cities.

Most of the city’s residents usually choose to watch the parade in person, while the wealthy and elite held a gathering in District One as a means to socialize and celebrate the day.

Another message comes whizzing through before Luhan can think of a reply to Yixing, and the slightest bit of bitterness arouses within him as he reads the second message. He does his best not to reply to Yixing’s message with an envious “Lucky Bastard” as he thinks of how Junmyeon gets to skip out another year of public humiliation.

_P.S. Junmyeon says if you see his parents don’t tell them you've met with him._

This year marked the return of Junmyeon and Yixing to the city after two years of being away; however, the two high-ranked members of Caelum National Security would be missing out on the event once again, this time because they would be participating in the parade. The pair was in charge of being escorts, which meant they would be leading the parade in a black air-conditioned jeep.

Luhan was well aware of how happy Junmyeon was at missing the party in favor of leading the parade.  Years after his failed engagement he was still the wealthy class's favorite piece of gossip.  The only thing that stopped his parents from treating him as an utter disappointment was his rank in CNS.

Yixing on the other hand, who was charming to a fault, had no enemies. He was his parents' pride and joy, and even his ex-partners graced him with a certain type of affection that usually wasn’t seen amongst former lovers. Out of all of their friends, Yixing enjoyed the gatherings because he was always treated well amongst the other elites.

_Have you ever realized that all your friends happen to be failures or did you plan for it to be this way?_

Luhan doesn't see Yixing's reply to his message until after he has showered and dressed.

_You've finally realize my master plan I see. Don't be stingy on the tales. My day won't nearly be half as eventful_

Luhan grins at the message. Yixing had joined the security force to be a part of the action and the traveling and although escorting the parade was much tamer, Luhan knew Yixing looked forward to it. Even though Yixing was not a very conceited male he did tend to enjoy having all eyes on him.

Like every year President Kim sends a car for him in the mid-afternoon, and like every year Luhan takes the chance to glance at every red and white flag dangling from their poles and swaying in pixelated images on digital billboards as he exits his building. It's a means for stalling, for delay, in hopes that the car faces a massive gridlock and Luhan misses the gala. Those wishes never come true, most of the traffic is in the direction of the parade which is always held in the opposite direction of the gala.

It takes less than half an hour for the car to reach its destination. The Grand Capital Hall is located in the center of District One amongst all the many government buildings. The tall white marble building houses four rooms for large gatherings, a vast auditorium, and a grand ballroom. The tinted windows, reflect the brightly burning sun and all the various white buildings surrounding the hall.

Luhan muffles another groan as he follows after a familiar couple, the woman’s hair is done up in an extravagant curled style and her peach colored dress slows her down as she climbs the steps. Luhan had a rather volatile affair with her when she had been separated from the man whose arm she’s currently latched on to. Luhan follows three paces behind them, his hands pocketed in his slacks as he watches the couple converse in soft whispers.

The vast room is already filled with tons of people chatting in various groups. Intricate designs are etched in the upper walls and curved ceilings of the ballroom, and a large gold chandelier hangs from the center.  The tall glass windows reflect the brilliant green garden with the healthiest trees, and grass Luhan has ever witnessed within the city. The garden’s hedges make up a miniature maze, in at the center lies a man-made pond. The ballroom is one of the few places in District One Luhan doesn’t completely detest despite his lack of enthusiasm for any and all parties thrown there. From its tall marble pillars at the entrance to the plush cool grass of the garden, the place had always mesmerized him when he was young, and now as an adult every visit brought a sudden burst of nostalgia and longing.

Kris meets him at the entrance of the ballroom, with a glass of champagne held in each hand.

"Is one for me," Luhan asks, trying to refrain himself from snatching one of the glasses away and downing it in one go. "Please tell me one of those is for me."

"You've barely been here for sixty seconds," Kris replies, passing one of the glass flutes to Luhan. "Keep it up and you'll be utterly drunk by the end of the night.”

"Well I am in the enemy's territory,” Luhan replies, slowly sipping from the drink. "If It's like any other year President Kim will corner me when I least expect it say something unpleasant at best and ruin my mood for the rest of the week. Speaking of which, you came with your father right? I bet that was one hell of a car ride."

The grimace Kris makes has Luhan snickering softly after quickly swallowing down the rest of his drink.

 "Don't remind me,” Kris mutters. “I have to share the car home with him as well.”

"For once I feel grateful my step-father hates the idea of us being in the same place for longer than necessary.”

The pair keep to themselves for a bit, catching up on things. When Kris asks about Minseok, Luhan feels a rush of silly giddiness as he recalls the day prior. The pair had spent their whole day together, and despite utilizing his best persuasive techniques to make Minseok spend another night, the slightly older male had left in the evening, promising to meet with him the day of the holiday.

The two males eventually realize that they can’t ignore those around them for too long, and as time continues, they find themselves mingling with the guests. Kyungsoo, of course, is also at the gala but since he’s with his parents, Luhan only manages to utter a hello to them, as he is swept off into a different direction, chatting with gossiping women, and mildly perverted men. Luhan isn’t a business man, he’s not married into wealth, nor was he born into it, and therefore the only people that really acknowledge his presence are people either interested in the inner workings of the entertainment world or the ones interested in him.

As the day persists, Luhan finds himself standing beside one of Nessen’s board members as the older man leads the small crowd into a toast. A toast to wealth, happiness, and health for the Great Ruler and all the people in the room as the man proclaims into the open air. All the attendees lift their glasses in glee and swallow down a bit of the champagne in hand, Luhan chugs it like a shot.

“Should you really be drinking like that,” he hears, and freezes in place. He knew President Kim would come to him eventually, his coming to ruin Luhan’s evening was just as traditional as the rest of the day. He turns to face the older man, and bows his head in respect, eyes straying to the glossy floor below his feet as he tries to brace himself for whatever President Kim will say or do.

“The dog is starting to learn manners I see,” President Kim remarks scathingly. “Should I thank my secretary for this? Maybe keep him around a bit longer.” Luhan doesn’t speak, instead he lets his eyes stray to the black leather shoes President Kim is wearing, unconsciously gripping the glass in his hand tighter.

“What,” President Kim asks rhetorically, laughter imprinted on his tone. “No defiant word, no pathetic glare? It seems he’s trained you too well in all your free time.”

“Why,” Luhan finally says. His curiosity behind the reason President Kim had poised an embargo on his work drawing the word out before he could stop it.

“Why,” President Kim repeats, “and here I thought you’d be grateful for all the time off. Ah, but nothing is free, you’ll see what I have in store for you soon child.”

Luhan glare is transfixed on President Kim’s back as he watches his boss stalk away from him with calm and dignified steps.

“Stop glaring, before people think you’re trying to burn a hole in his back,” he hears from the right of him.

“But I am,” Luhan replies, turning to his manager and friend.

“We can’t have others know,” Kyungsoo says in return. “It’s unsightly on this day of celebration.” There’s a small fond smile on his lips as he rolls his eyes in mock. Luhan smiles as well, remembering that although Kyungsoo was not seen in a bad light even after refusing to follow in his father's footsteps of a high positioned spot in the CNS, he still held a deep hatred for gatherings of such.

It was a bit ironic that the one that kept most of his District One sophistication had such a disdain for the parties. “What did he say,” Kyungsoo then proceeds to ask.

A small frown graces Luhan’s lips. President Kim hadn’t said anything particularly cruel this time around, but the taunting was still enough to turn Luhan’s already bad day even sourer. “Well he pretty much revealed he’s the reason behind the lack of work I'm getting, but we already knew that. Apparently I’ll get to repay him for that soon.”

"Well that must mean he’s been loosening the reigns then," Kyungsoo replies dryly. "I managed to get you some work."

"With who," Luhan asks, unless Kyungsoo is right and President Kim has decided to allow him more work then he doubts it's anyone prestigious, and if it is someone prestigious, Luhan wonders what exactly President Kim has in mind for him.

"A luxury men's formal line. You've worked with them quite a few times."

"Will I be alone," Luhan asks next. Kyungsoo never gets to answer his question, because only seconds later, the earth begins to rock violently underneath their feet, throwing the pair off balance. The loud shrieks of the party guests is quickly masked by the reverberation of explosions. The rapid booming sounding like the fireworks usually shown late into the evening, only louder and closer. Luhan has to grip the wall to not lose balance as the ground continues to rock underneath him. Glasses shatter and other unhinged things tumble alongside them, and just as quickly as it begins it stops.

The room is quiet, silence covers the aftermath as people get over the shock of the earth quivering beneath their feet and just as quickly a murmur erupts through that quietness. Everyone begins to chatter all at once, as if they're afraid their next word will be their last. Luhan is quiet as he uprights himself, he sees Kris behind Kyungsoo, breaking from the crowd of frantic people, and Luhan grabs his manager's arm, leading him towards their friend.  The three boys then proceed to dodge the crowd, only stopping when they're outside the building.

It's not quiet outside, despite the emptiness of the streets. Sirens and car alarms blare loud in the empty air as Luhan proceeds to take a look around the area for damage. There are vine like lines against the asphalt, splintering the land. A tall street lamp has been uprooted and has taken up a new home smashed into the city's courthouse.

"You need to be inside," Luhan hears and he turns to face the newcomer. There is a woman, shorter than him with long brown hair in loose waves, she's dressed as if she just stepped out of the party herself. Beside her is the person that had spoken, a man about Kris' height, with a frown on his thin lips. Luhan figures he's either her lover or bodyguard.

"Why," Kris asks. The woman reaches a hand out to hold the male’s arm as she steps forward.

"Because," she begins, Luhan notices then her hesitance, and the way the man beside her shuffles off towards the entrance.

She beckons them towards the entrance hurriedly, and Luhan follows behind her without complaint. He's sure he has seen her before, but at the moment he can't seem to recall where or when he had done so.

The four of them pause outside of the entrance of the ballroom. Luhan can hear from behind the thick doors, how the once hysteric murmur has grown louder in volume. Everyone's voices mix together in a terrified cacophony, and even though Luhan can barely understand a word said on the opposite side of the door, he steps forward in morbid curiosity. He's intrigued and just a bit fearful. He's curious about what has spurred this on, what could possibly be happening at this very moment and second, but he's also worried that once he finds out he'll be another petrified voice added to the ongoing ensemble of panicked noises.

"I'm a member of the cabinet," the woman who had stayed silent up until this point says. Luhan looks at her in anticipation, his stomach dropping at the thought that what just occurred could possibly be more than just natural earth tremors.

"And right now we're under attack.”


	21. Chapter Twenty

The following hours pass slowly after Luhan and the others are ushered back into the ballroom.

The venue was quickly placed under an immediate lockdown, preventing anyone from entering and prohibiting all those inside from leaving. As an extra precaution District Police lined the perimeter of the building, in the off chance of another attack occurring.

The initial hysteria amongst the rich partygoers had quickly died down and instead produced a room full of antsy frustrated individuals. Luhan had witness one shouting match between a judge of the high courts and the guards, and various people cursing both the rebels and the Imperfects as a whole. Those who didn't allow for their frustration to surface begun gossiping. The talk of bombs and casualties whispered with anxious urgency between guests.

In the moments Luhan wasn't using the guests to distract himself, he was trying to get into contact with Minseok to no avail. All video calls, normal voice calls, and messages went unanswered.

It had forced Luhan into anxiously pacing about and drinking more alcohol than socially acceptable in such a place at such a time.

When they're finally permitted to leave, each guest is flanked with an officer escorting them to their respective cars, once more as a precaution in the rare chance of something going terribly wrong.

On the ride home Luhan tries to pay attention to what the outside world looks like. He's more than sure a curfew has been put in place, but from a single glance out of his window, he can tell that it isn’t needed. Not a soul lingers on the city streets, but the flags remain swaying restlessly. It was such an ironic turn of events. In one part of the city, there had been a parade of power, while in another part, the city had been attacked by the weak and underpowered rebels, the non-threatening terrorists.

There is no noticeable damage outside of the government buildings section, but Luhan finds little things that he wonders rather or not happened before the attack. He pays attention to the cracks in the street, and the slight lean of the traffic lights to distract himself from the grotesque image of Minseok lying alone and dead in unseen rubble underground.

********

"Sir," he hears, and snaps his attention from the dying phone in his hand to the driver in front of him.

"We've arrived sir," the man says in his lifting accent. Luhan nods distractedly and exits the car swiftly.

He avoids the elevator and takes the stairs to his apartment, phone still in hand.

It was frustrating.

Luhan had managed to get in contact with all his friends in his two hours of being trapped inside the ballroom. Every single person important to him was okay and accounted for, save for the one person who had the closest connection to the attack. The word "dead" kept flashing in Luhan's mind, as if taunting him. It was somewhat silly, and definitely naive, but even as that word worked its way into Luhan's brain, taking over his thoughts, it didn't feel right. Minseok wasn't answering, but he wasn't dead either. Luhan couldn't explain his conviction, not even to himself, but he knew that Minseok wasn't dead, regardless of what his mind was trying to trick him into believing.

The moment he gets to his floor he first notices the large red backpack. It sits nestled in the arms of a man with a cheap suit on. Even with his face buried into the backpack, Luhan can still recognize the man, and he finds his lips moving, and voice calling out his name before his mind can fully and truly register that sitting before him is Kim Minseok.

A small smile plays at the edge of his lips, relief flooding through his previously tense body as Minseok lifts his head to look at him. Luhan doesn't approach the secretary right away, instead he watches him. He observes the way Minseok stands, notices how slow his moves are and how tired he looks. There are no visible marks on him, and Luhan watches as he self-consciously fixes his dark hair. Once Luhan's sure that he's at least physically okay he moves forward. Each step measured and contained as he stalks towards Minseok.

The moment Luhan stops in front of Minseok the older male's lips pull back into a grin, and Luhan can hardly stop himself as he pushes forward, wounding his arms tightly around Minseok's body, fingers gripping onto the secretary's suit jacket. He knows he's probably holding Minseok too tightly, but even as his mind tells him to loosen his grip, his arms don't comply.

"I was worried," Luhan breathes out.

"I'm sorry," Minseok says softly.

After seconds of just holding Minseok, Luhan finally pulls away with much reluctance. He keeps Minseok at arm’s length as he looks over him once more. He still looks lethargic, but he also looks a tad jittery. His left foot taps an erratic beat against the carpeted hallway floor, his teeth comes out to attack his bottom lip, and his eyes are trained downward, focusing on Luhan’s chest instead of his face. Luhan's gaze drops from Minseok to the overstuffed red backpack resting against the floor, and can't help but wonder what's inside of it.

"Let's go inside," Minseok suggests with a tired smile, as if noticing Luhan's puzzlement. Luhan nods and moves pass Minseok unlocking his door and opening it for the secretary. Once the door closes behind them, Minseok's false smile drops but his jitters continue.

"I'm sorry," Minseok repeats, walking deeper into the apartment. He turns to Luhan, opening his mouth as if he's about to say something, but quickly closes it, a grim look over taking his features as he turns away from Luhan to gaze out of the tall living room window, eyes trained on the city in front of him.

Luhan comes up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder. Minseok's behavior is worrying. The model still feels a bit off-balance thanks to the attack, and Minseok's out of character behavior is enough to put him back in the same paranoid state from earlier. He hadn't expected Minseok to be one hundred percent okay, Minseok used the city's subway system daily and this attack affected him more than Luhan and any of the people that were trapped inside the city's lavish banquet hall for two hours.

"Go get a glass of water or something to calm your nerves," Luhan tells Minseok, tugging gently at the red backpack hanging off of Minseok's shoulders. "I'll put this in my room." Minseok gives a subtle nod and allows Luhan to take his backpack off.

When Minseok walks away, Luhan heaves a heavy sigh. He's exhausted, has been for some time now, but he can already tell that despite the possible curfew that should be implemented in the next few hours, his night is going to be just as long and draining as the rest of his day.

Once he deposits Minseok's bag at the base of his bed, Luhan joins him in the kitchen. Minseok's eyes are trained on his glass of water as Luhan moves hastily to prepare himself a cup of coffee. "Have you figured out what you wanted to say?"

"No," Minseok admits. "I know what I need to say it's just..." he trails off biting his bottom lip again and redirecting his gaze back to his glass. “It's hard to start."

Luhan nods in understanding, "I've had moments like that, usually alcohol helps."

"I don't think alcohol will help me," Minseok says, as Luhan begins going through his cabinets. "I need a place to stay."

Luhan grabs two cups and places them beside the coffee maker. "Do you want coffee," he asks turning to Minseok. Minseok frowns at the question and shakes his head. "You want to stay with me right," Luhan asks next, as he prepares his drink. Once he's done, he sits across from Minseok, and stares at him in question. "Did you forget how I tried to convince you to stay last night? You were getting me worried for no reason."

"This isn't just for the night," Minseok tells him. "I'll need to stay for a week at most until I can find a more permanent place to stay."

"Stay," Luhan commands softly, "rather it's a few days or a few weeks, stay as long as you like."

"Luhan," Minseok huffs, his frown deepening.

"Minseok," Luhan says interrupting, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Were you stressed because you were trying to figure out ways to make me not agree?"

"It's not that," Minseok replies. "We've only started seeing each other, I don't want you to regret it later on."

Luhan grabs Minseok’s hand and brings it up to his lips, planting a small kiss against his knuckles. “I’ve let people who I could barely tolerate move in with me after weeks of a relationship. And this, this isn’t me asking you to stay with me as two lovers. I’m telling the man who is in need of a place to stay, who is also my lover, that it’s more than okay for you to stay with me however long you need. Don’t make me worry about you.”

Minseok doesn't speak right away so Luhan continues. "I don't mind you staying, but won't you tell me why you need a place so suddenly."

He wants, no, he needs to know rather or not it's a coincidence. Last night Minseok couldn't spend the night because he had an ill mother and overworked father he couldn't be away from for too long, but now he was going to be away for weeks.

"You know that rumor that only Imperfects take the subway," Minseok asks. Luhan nods his head, already feeling his lips pull into an involuntary frown.

Minseok's lips quirk just the slightest bit. "Well you weren't entirely wrong. Those in the poorer districts do in fact ride the subway, but the majority are Imperfects. This attack had been planned for weeks, word had gotten around so the casualties would be little and to give time so that many Imperfects could flee the city beforehand."

Luhan's eyebrows furrow as he places the ceramic coffee mug with its cooled contents on the table. "You knew," Luhan says. He's not accusing Minseok of anything, he's not even sure if he's asking a question.

"For two days prior," Minseok explains. "I couldn't have done anything about it, only make sure those I knew stayed away."

"Where are your parents," Luhan asks, "Why exactly do you need to stay?"

It isn't until the question leaves his lips does Luhan realize what exactly he's asking. _Did you have a hand in this? Are you a terrorist?_

It's such an absurd conclusion to draw, but who's to say that Minseok really is nothing but a simple secretary. People higher up in the social and political ladder were turning out to be rebel sympathizers and joining the Red Devils.

As Luhan’s mind begins to entertain that thought he realizes if Minseok was in fact a Rebel, he wasn't sure what he'd do. More importantly it made him a bit nervous that his first thought wasn't to report Minseok if he did happen to be a Red Devil.

"On their way to a compound hopefully," Minseok explains. "I can't stay home, they're going to come looking for them and when they can't find them they'll take me instead."

Almost all living beings within the city held identification codes assigned to them including a majority of the Imperfects still living after the mass genocide and regulations outlawing them. When attacks happened Imperfects rather rebels or normal citizens were rounded up and taking out of the city to be interrogated, the ones without Identification codes were given them after the capture.

"Don't they have immunity," Luhan asks. "Aren't _you_ supposed to have immunity?"

Imperfect parents of Perfect children, especially those born in the same year as Luhan were given a list of benefits. Some of which included immunity from things many Imperfects were subjected to, such as being herded off to the detention center at the edge of the city.

"Immunity's dead," Minseok retorts. "Everyone from Imperfects to their children will be rounded up. Anyone that could be a terrorist or a sympathizer will be dealt with over the next few days. I got my parents to flee, I didn't want to have my mother dying in captivity just because she exists as she is."

"Why didn't you join them," Luhan asks, "The compound would have taken you in right?"

Minseok shakes his head, "I'm in a bit of a mess at the moment," he says. "Me leaving would have done more harm than good. I'm safest in the city for now."

Luhan is quiet, there is still so much he wants to ask but he knows that any more questions will be seen as prying and not as clarification. The last of Minseok's words seemed carefully selected as if he hadn't wanted to go into detail. It did make Luhan curious, but he could refrain himself from asking and making Minseok even more uncomfortable. At the moment all Luhan wanted to do was sleep and leave all talk of rebels and Imperfects behind them.

Just as Luhan is about to suggest the same to Minseok he is suddenly hit with a harrowing thought that causes all his previous anxiety to come rushing back. "They're going after all Imperfects right? That means random security checks on the streets tomorrow right?"

Minseok nods his head and Luhan reaches in his pocket, withdrawing his phone. It's close to dying and Luhan is close to throwing it across the room in anger.

He uses the voice command to call Sehun, ignoring Minseok's inquiring eyes. It rings and rings as Luhan begins to pace the length of the room in caffeine fueled impatience.

"Hello," he hears and bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from spewing the swear words at the tip of his tongue.

"Luhan," Sehun calls out in confusion.

"Where are you," Luhan asks, voice calm despite the raging emotions within him.

Sehun doesn't respond right away and Luhan repeats himself voice more stern than to begin with.

"A motel in the Red Light," Sehun mumbles out.

"With Tao," Luhan asks, spitting the name out and frowning.

"Yes," Sehun replies voice coated in a thick layer of annoyance. "What do you want?"

Luhan doesn't speak at first. He pulls his phone away from his ear and works to control his breathing, he can feel his frustration surging towards his skull, the emotion racing to every direction underneath his skin and for the first time in his life Luhan wants to take a sleeping pill, his dreams of death becoming more and more welcome than this current reality.

"Do you think it's appropriate to be at a motel tonight," he asks in a clipped tone. Luhan's not naive enough to believe his calls aren't listened in on, and so he tries to think of a way to get his point across to Sehun without getting either of them into deeper trouble.

"There's a curfew," Sehun replies. "It'll be easier to stay here than go home."

"Sehunnie,” He says, voice bordering between frustration and desperation. "You'll be interfering with the security checks if you don't go home. It's best for Perfects to stay out of public places for the next few days. They'll be looking for Imperfects everywhere.

"I can take you and Tao home before the curfew," Luhan adds on when Sehun, doesn't respond. He hopes that at the very least Sehun will hear the desperation in his voice and agree. "You can spend the next two days pretending to be honeymooners."

"Okay," he hears Sehun say. "Thanks."

Once he ends his call he looks over to Minseok who is still watching him. "I really wish you could drive right now."

"Sorry," Minseok says as Luhan walks over and hugs him, resting his head on Minseok's shoulder and heaving another exhausted sigh. He feels like collapsing, but now he has to worry about one other person, and Luhan knows that his racing heart, and frantic mind won’t be at ease until he’s sure Sehun’s safe.

He shakes his head softly. "Don't say sorry," he commands.

********

The roads are clear save for the rogue government vehicle every now and then. Luhan speeds through the city's streets, the car bathed in a tense stifling silence. He said he wouldn't get involved, but here he was moments away from smuggling an Imperfect from one side of the city to the next. If they got caught, Luhan and Sehun would not be the only people in trouble. Minseok, despite not knowing the full story, had volunteer to ride along. Luhan was putting him in even more danger and what was worse was that Luhan didn't know how to breech the topic.

Minseok didn't seem too bothered by Imperfects mere existence, but that didn't mean that he was ready to commit high acts of treason for them. Luhan was hardly ready to commit them, which brought him back to why he was doing this. He knew why, as angry as it made him, he couldn't leave Sehun to fend for himself in good conscience. Sehun wasn't being rational and despite Luhan's own irrational behavior he knew exactly what he was risking when he got involved. He lived through growing tension between Imperfect and Perfect, understood that there was no true factor that set Imperfect civilians apart in the eyes of the Perfect. Luhan also understood that there would never be peace until one race was completely eradicated.

"What do you think of Imperfects," Luhan asks, breaking from his morbid thoughts and directing his attention to Minseok.

"What do I think of Imperfects," Minseok repeats as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He throws a quick questioning glance at Luhan before attempting to answer. “Well... my parents are Imperfects.”

“And so were mine and I loved them dearly," Luhan retorts.

"But?"

"But I can't help but dislike them as well. Instead of doing all this wouldn't it be easier to just get the gene?"

Minseok hums in thought before speaking. "I suppose. The newest gene does allow for anyone regardless of age to get it."

"Exactly," Luhan says nodding his head.

"They would just have to hope that the scientists don't make any mistakes while injecting them, no one wants to be injected with the prototype or, you know, one of those archaic diseases."

"Is that possible," Luhan asks wrinkling his nose at Minseok's words.

"I don't know," Minseok says shrugging, "if it was, do you think it would be easy to prove?"

"I...where did you get that from?"

"Your father died before you were at the age to get real answers to all your questions, so the answers you did get came from the rich and healthy. All mine came from the poor and sickly. It makes sense that our facts doesn't match up, and some of what you've heard might be pretty lies and some of what I've been told could be crazy conspiracies but neither of us will know the real truth. No one does.”

When Luhan pulls up inside the motel's parking lot, Minseok grabs Luhan by the sleeve as he starts to climb out of the car. "Tonight when we get back I need to tell you something. If you don't want to be with me let alone let me stay at your place I'll understand."

Luhan doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he's actually supposed to say anything in return, but all words at the tip of his tongue are less than supportive and probably not something that should be said at the very beginning of a relationship. Therefore instead of piecing together a decent reply Luhan gives a distracted nod and exits the automobile.

Luhan's car is the only car in the badly lit parking lot. The no, below the neon pink words Paradise Motel glows just as brightly as the rest of the words on the sign, and Luhan momentarily wonders just how many naïve Imperfects paid for a night there under the frail hope that they wouldn't be herded off to the detention Center.

If immunity was truly dead he doubted the sleazy brothel owners were enjoying the night.

Luhan climbs the steps to the second floor, Sehun had explained that the couple were camping out in room 215. The faded gold number plates count down from 230 as he passes hot pink door after hot pink door. When he gets to 215 he knocks hard, each heavy thud of his knuckles against the heavy door loud amongst the nonstop humming of city clamor.

The locks makes an obnoxious clicking noise seconds before Sehun opens it up. A chain connects the door to the wall, preventing Luhan from seeing much into the motel room. Once Sehun sees him, he closes the door and opens it again, this time wider.

"Give me the card," Luhan commands reaching a hand out for the motel room's keycard. "Did you use your real name?"

Sehun shakes his head and deposits the card into Luhan's outstretched palm.

"Take him to my car," Luhan says next. Even though he had tried to be accepting, seeing the tall Imperfect boy had erupted that nasty bitterness within. He couldn't see the boy's face without seeing the words _Sehun's demise_ written across every inch of it, and it brought on an unbearable feeling of hatred. As he watches Sehun grab Tao's hand, he doesn't bother to mask the grimace contorting his face. Hopeless. Imperfects were such hopeless beings, and Luhan knew that better than most, all they did was bring pain and despair into the lives of those they surrounded themselves with, and Sehun would be no different.

The middle-aged male at the receptionist desk barely glances up at him, not that it matters. Luhan's biggest concern is the database filled with aliases and the cheap security cameras. Even if Sehun had given a fake name, it would prove useless if officials checked the camera feed as well.

The digital clock on the glistening desk tells Luhan he only has an hour before curfew, so he turns on his heels and exits the dully designed office.

As he walks towards his car he can't help but wonder what Minseok could possibly be planning to tell him, he doubts it could be worse than illegally trafficking an Imperfect, hell Minseok should be the one deciding if he wanted to stay or leave at the moment.

He runs thin fingers through his hair, as he opens the door to his car, only to pause as foreign words said by a familiar voice leaks into the crisp twilight.

Luhan slowly eases himself into the vehicle, his gaze on Minseok. The secretary is twisted in his seat, as he speaks in a halting yet calming tone.

The feeling is like déjà vu, but only different. What comes to Luhan is what he can only assume is a flashback, Minseok’s speaking being the trigger. The language is still foreign, but just like the voice speaking it, it has taken on an edge of familiarity. Luhan can slowly recall the time he'd heard similar enunciations, and the emotions they were spoken in; agony, sadness, panic. It all comes rushing to him like a tidal wave knocking him to his feet.

The thoughts, the memories, or whatever they seem to be only stop when Minseok rests a hand on his thigh.

“Are you okay,” he hears and turns towards the male with a tiny forced smile. He's not okay, but Minseok doesn't need to worry about that so he nods his head and shifts his attention to the two in the rearview mirror. Tao, like a boy brought up to be submissive, has his head bowed and his hand in Sehun's. Sehun on the other hand has his head raised, his strong gaze locking with Luhan's and Luhan tries to ignore the concern etched into his brown irises.

"Let's talk tomorrow," Luhan says glancing back at Minseok as he starts the car.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

The very next day, Luhan finds himself alone in his large king-sized bed, basking in the utter silence of his bedroom and the dim lighting of the sun peeking through the curtains. He lays still, keeping his eyes closed and breathing in deep even breaths of air. Last night he took a sleeping pill, and then lay victim as his dreams transformed before him, dreams of death, of torture and carnage, dreams involving not only him but every single person he cared for.

His own real life boogeyman had taken center stage in the upscale production, and the deep spine tingling laugh that had danced through Luhan's ears still lingered behind in the nightmare's terrible aftermath. With his eyes still closed Luhan could see petrified eyes and a thick braided noose wrapped snug around the neck of an indistinguishable yet familiar figure. With his eyes closed, he could still feel cold metal shackles embedding itself in his wiry wrists. But with his eyes open Luhan could see the real world. With closed eyes he's in a horrific nightmare, but a fake one. With open eyes he's in a real life nightmare, one he can't escape from.

He leaves the warmth of his room a good fifteen minutes later. Outside of his bedroom the sun's natural light is brighter, shimmering across the open space, and the silence is replaced by the low whispering voices of his television.

Minseok is seated in the middle of his large couch, mouth pulled into a tight lipped frown and eyes trained on the news report he's currently watching.

“What are they saying,” Luhan asks as he steps closer to the male. The woman done up in minimal makeup is staring with frantic hazel eyes into the camera, upper body poised forward as she speaks into her microphone.

"They've caught about 600 Imperfects," Minseok says. "They believe there are at least 1000 more within the city, but in a city with over a million people there are probably still tens of thousands of Imperfects that weren’t lucky enough to leave."

“When do they give up,” Luhan asks. Most Imperfects lacked identification, and Luhan figured that the 600 Imperfects found were the easier ones to find, the ones hiding in hotel rooms and empty factories, and taking refuge in the abandoned homes in the poor districts.

"When they catch the Rebels," Minseok replies.

"Wouldn't they be long gone by now," Luhan asks, taking a seat beside Minseok. Minseok shifts his gaze from the television to Luhan, studying him. “What,” he asks meeting Minseok’s unnerving stare. Minseok doesn’t reply, he just continues to stare at Luhan, studying the model’s face only to shake his head a moment later.

“I don't think they'll be leaving the city,” Minseok finally says. “But if they do disappear I'm sure they will be found and properly dealt with.”

Luhan figures there's a double meaning behind his words, Minseok wasn't exactly a shining beacon of what a nationalist looked like, not that Luhan blamed him. For him to utter such a hopeful and optimistic phrase in regards to the government was more than a little odd, but Luhan figured that maybe it was the fact that he was now separated from his parents due to the Red Devils’ attack.

"Are you hungry," Minseok asks, efficiently changing the topic.

Luhan eyes flicker back to the television screen, a new reporter stands in front of a taped off subway station, the frantic intensity shining in his eyes as well. He can feel Minseok's gaze on him, waiting patiently for an answer, and so he gives a brief nod. Luhan's not exactly hungry, but one of the side effects of his tortuous sleeping pills, was a lingering fatigue that only escapes him after he eats.

********

The couple sit in a tense silence, eyes drawn strictly to their plates as they allow themselves to be caught up in their own thoughts. Luhan had left the television on in the other room in case anything of significance were to happen, and now the still lowered voices of the news anchors were the only thing filling the silence.

"We need to talk," Luhan says, breaking away from his thoughts to look at Minseok, watching as the secretary raises his head to stare back at him.

“You're right," Minseok replies, and then there's another bout of heavy silence, and Minseok returns his gaze to his plate. Luhan figures he should start, since he was the one to suggest that they talk in the first place, and he was the one to drag Minseok out last night.

“I'm sorry for not telling you about Tao.” Luhan says, watching as Minseok glances back up to him, surprise written across every inch of his face. “I was too focused on Sehun and when I finally remembered to tell you everything you needed to know about the situation, I just didn't know how.”

“They're together,” Minseok asks. “Sehun and Tao?” Luhan nods his head in response. He still gets sick to his stomach about them being together, but he's not a cruel man, and as much as he sees Sehun as a younger brother, they're not truly related. Luhan has no footing in their affair.

“Does he know what he's getting into,” Minseok then proceeds to ask, voice coming out strained. His gaze has gone back to his food, barely eaten and probably cold.

“He does,” Luhan says, watching as Minseok's gaze hardens into an empty glare. "We talked about it."

Minseok lips move, but Luhan can't hear his voice. Still, from the rigid posture and the heated glare, Luhan's more than sure he has just whispered out a swear, when Luhan had first found out about them all he wanted to do was swear as well.

"I know Tao," Minseok says. "He worked odd jobs in The Red, we were introduced through another kid I knew." He pauses then a small sad smile gracing his lips in a way that reminded Luhan of when Minseok had brought up his younger sister.

“Well neither of them were actually children," Minseok says, "Despite how much they remind me of them.” The way Minseok talks, it reflects how Luhan feels about Kai and Sehun, the pair were adults just like him, but they were still young, still hadn't outgrown that childish innocence of theirs because they were still so ignorant to how cruel the world around them could be.

Minseok eyes still look glazed over as if his mind has taken a trip down memory lane and it makes Luhan curious. The sad smile is still present on Minseok's lips, and he looks nearly heartbroken. "What was he like," Luhan asks, nearly whispering his question.

“Tao,” Minseok asks in question, looking up to Luhan and cooling his features as he begins to speak.

“No,” Luhan says with a shake of his head, “the other boy.” Luhan figures it could be the memories that had melancholy clouding Minseok's expression, but it could also be the other boy Minseok had subtly brought up.

“Baekhyun,” Minseok says quietly, but Luhan still catches the name. He doesn't speak at first, the hesitance visible as the sad smile turns into a frown as he thinks. “He was seriously talkative,” Minseok finally says, the laugh that escapes his lips coming out weaker than his usual laugh. “And always so bright and energetic despite his circumstances. I’ve never met anyone like Baekhyun, even the strongest Imperfects still feel the effects of being less than dirt to society, but Baekhyun, he had never let that get him down, at least he never showed it if it did make him upset.”

Luhan swallows thickly, he's not sure what he had expected to hear, but he still feels discomfort from what Minseok has told him, not because he doesn't know what Minseok's relationship with Baekhyun was. There is a desire to know about their relationship, but his discomfort hails from how Minseok speaks of him. His voice holds so much longing and despair, even Luhan feels it within. It makes him curious to know more, to learn every single thing about Baekhyun and understand his greatness, and the affect his being has left on Minseok. “You speak in the past tense when you talk about him,” Luhan explains. “What happened to him?”

Minseok doesn’t look at him, and a silence falls over the table only punctuated by the sound of the television. “In the poorer districts,” Minseok begins. “We live by a certain belief when our neighbors and friends go missing, no matter how illogical it may seem, or how the evidence may say otherwise we still choose to believe it to help us sleep at night and go on through the day.”

Luhan remains quiet and when Minseok speaks a small vacant smile graces his lips. “Baekhyun’s at a compound, away from the troubles of city life.  He’s safe.”

Luhan doesn't say anything, and as Minseok continues to speak the vacant smile contorts into a deep grimace, and the lonely eyes begin shining with a burning anger. "He doesn’t matter at the moment,” Minseok bites out suddenly. “How could those two get themselves in such a situation? They're both such idiots, them being together is like certain de…" he trails off, eyes flickering up to meet Luhan than averting down to the table. “Maybe I can talk to Tao,” Minseok suggests. “He doesn’t know what being caught with Sehun will actually do to them. He…”

“If he’s as stubborn as Sehun that won’t work," Luhan replies, speaking up. His mind is still lingering on Minseok, and Baekhyun. He still has things he wants to know, things he doesn’t think he’ll stop being curious about anytime soon, but he tries to focus, tries to bring his mind back to the topic at hand.

Minseok shakes his head. “He’s not. He’s a good kid, he cares about people, too much if you ask me. If I tell him, if I explain to him how bad it will be, he would do something. He wouldn’t dare put Sehun through any of that. They think that once they’re caught they can just runaway or at worse be exiled, but it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then,” Luhan finds himself asking. Minseok sounds as if he’s speaking from experience and it makes him curious. He wonders if Minseok had ever been through such a thing and if that was why he seemed so sad when talking about that Baekhyun guy, were they lovers gone wrong?

“I,” Minseok begins looking up at Luhan as if he’d only just remembered that Luhan was actually there with him and barely knew a thing about his history, besides the fact that he had lived in District Eight with his sick parents. “I don’t know firsthand,” Minseok says a moment later with a shake of his head. “But I’ve heard the stories and I’ve seen what people look like when they come back from it, and it’s not nice.”

Lies. Minseok is lying and lying badly at that, but Luhan doesn’t force it, he had known that Minseok came with secrets, even Luhan has things in his past he never wants to divulge. Instead he looks down at his food cold and barely eaten and then across the table to Minseok’s plate in the exact same state.

“Are you done,” Luhan asks standing. He watches as Minseok goes rigid, eyes widening as he looks up to Luhan.

“Huh,” he asks in question.

Luhan lips quirk at the cute expression, and he gestures to the plate in front of Minseok. “Are you done eating?”

Minseok’s eyes drop to his plate, and he nods quickly. Luhan grabs his plate and heads around the table to Minseok, reaching out to take the secretary’s.

“Luhan,” Minseok calls out softly, grabbing a hold of Luhan’s wrist before he can take the plate. There’s a questioning lift to the way Minseok calls him, but Luhan interrupts him before he can say more.

“It’s okay,” Luhan whispers, leaning down and kissing Minseok’s forehead. “Don’t talk to him,” he whispers

“Hmm,” Minseok asks looking at him with a curious expression.

“Don’t talk to Tao,” Luhan commands. “Sehun’s all he’s got at the moment, and Sehun knows that. No matter what you say or suggest Tao do, Sehun won’t give up on him without a fight. Leave them. I don’t want them to think no one will help them when they need it.”

“You plan to help them,” Minseok asks.

“As best as I can,” Luhan says.

Sehun wouldn't stop being reckless, wouldn't give up on being with Tao anytime soon because he was young and he was a Perfect. He grew up listening to how there were no limitations for him, physically and mentally, and he was too young to realize that despite how great they were made to be, every Perfect, First Gens included, were weak against one thing.

It could turn a rational Perfect reckless. It could turn a reckless Perfect overconfident in their abilities. It was the one thing all Perfects couldn't seem to conceal properly as seen with Junmyeon's ex-fiancee and Junmyeon himself. For a Perfect, love was their weakness and their downfall, and occasionally when Luhan comes across stories of lovers and madness, he can't help but wonder why no one thought to prevent them from feeling such an intense emotion. It seemed rather pathetic that for such an unstoppable being like a Perfect, loving someone could be their greatest flaw.

********

It’s with a new found resolve that Luhan finds himself grabbing Minseok and leading him back to his living room. The pair find themselves seated once more in front of the enormous television pressed into each other’s sides as close as they can be without being uncomfortable.

Luhan begins flickering through the channels, passes the numerous news reports of the attack and its aftermath, surfing channel after channel in hopes of finding something mindless to settle on, something to take him out of the day, and keep Minseok from whatever terrible thoughts are haunting him.

Minseok laughs suddenly, head thrown back, lips parted, and gums showing as he laughs a real laugh. His first real laugh since he'd left Luhan's apartment that Sunday evening. Luhan frowns, eyes flickering from the children's show he'd accidentally stopped on to Minseok now grinning and staring at him.

“What's so funny,” he asks as Minseok's grin stretches wider. The latter shakes his head in dismissal as he leans closer to Luhan pressing a light kiss to the corner of the younger male's lips.

Luhan lips quirk slightly on their own, and the sudden urge to pull Minseok forward into a different kiss, a proper kiss overwhelms him.

“You're remarkable,” Minseok whispers against his jawline. “Thanks.”

Luhan's lips pull into a broader smile as he gazes at Minseok, pride swelling his chest. Luhan was good at giving people what they needed when they needed superficial things, but this wasn't one of those moments. When he had pulled Minseok out of that kitchen chair and dragged him to his sofa he had no idea what he was planning to do, all he knew was that he needed to at least attempt to cheer Minseok up, to help drag the secretary's mind out of the deep dark place it's seemed to have been resting in the last 24 hours.

Even if his plan to watch mindless television hadn't taken affect, it seemed as though the sheer motivation hadn't gone unnoticed, and Minseok seemed to have appreciated the effort.

“You're the only one who gets to have me like this,” Luhan tells him. He tilts his head and captures Minseok's lips in a kiss. “You make me behave this way,” he accuses when they pull away. Minseok's smile returns as his gaze moves from Luhan's pale pink lips to his walnut brown eyes. He doesn't say a word, instead he rescues the remote control clenched tightly in Luhan's hand and brings him into another kiss once the device is resting safely on the coffee table.

Luhan lets Minseok move him, allows Minseok to gently maneuver him till he's lying back against the sofa, with Minseok hovering over him, not once breaking the kiss.

It isn't until Minseok's mapping out Luhan's jawline, lingering on places that make Luhan's breathing hitch, does the model realize what Minseok is really doing. Luhan himself has done this very thing quite a few times before. Minseok is seeking out distraction. So Luhan allows him, the moment he had dragged Minseok out of that kitchen chair it was to help distract him and if Luhan had to take the role as distractor so be it.

The moment Luhan realizes this, he relaxes himself, letting go and allowing Minseok the chance to do as he pleases. In the meantime, his hands that were once clutching Minseok as if his lithe waist was an anchor begins traveling, exploring new places as his hands brush down his hips, grope at his rear and linger on his firm thighs where Minseok's shorts have ridden up to give way to smooth skin. Once his hands have memorized the feel of the newly touched places, he travels back up, fingers dragging slowly as they trace out a new path, moving from Minseok's sides, from caressing his back to finally reside on his front. For a split-second, he keeps his hands still, the heels of his palms resting against the top of Minseok's shorts, while the tip of his fingers massage taut skin, and then he begins inching upward towards an unseen destination to feel more, to learn more of Minseok.

He pauses momentarily when his right hand rests over Minseok's heart. He feels the steady thumping of Minseok's quicken heartbeat, but he doesn't pay attention to that. The pads of his right fingers has found something much more interesting to focus his attention on, and Luhan finds himself biting on his bottom lip as he inspects the area. Above Luhan, Minseok has stopped kissing along his neck and jawline, he lays tense and breathing heavily into the crook of Luhan's neck. Once he's done inspecting the area with just his fingers, he drags both his hands back down to the hem of Minseok's shirt, pulling persistently at it.

Minseok doesn't move, so Luhan pushes at his waist to get him to sit up. They both do, and with more persistence on his part Luhan gets Minseok shirt off, letting it fall onto the floor. Minseok's stomach is flat and lined with ridges of well-defined muscle, but across his chest, right above his beating heart lies a scar. Bright red, and glistening against Minseok's fair and otherwise unblemished skin. It's long and jagged and although Luhan knows very little about skin injuries, Minseok’s scar looks as if the wound had been deep. The center of the scar is smooth underneath his fingers, but the edges are rougher and Luhan wonders if that’s a sign that it hadn’t healed properly.

Luhan raises his gaze from the scar to look at Minseok's eyes. Minseok isn't looking at him, his eyes are focused steadily on his lap, where his hands lay clenched and discolored. When Minseok refuses to meet Luhan's eyes, he returns his attention back to the scar, letting his hand come back up to trace it. Minseok is still tense underneath his touch, and Luhan loses all desire to learn about the scar for the moment. He files it under the growing list of things he'll ask about at a later time, instead he leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss against the overly smooth skin. Drawing away to refocus his attention on Minseok's face, he notices Minseok's bewildered eyes on him. Luhan lifts his hands, and rests them against Minseok's neck and brings him into another kiss, while pulling Minseok back down against him.

It takes a moment but Minseok kisses him back, once again pushing closer to Luhan. Luhan hands are still resting against Minseok's neck, his touch firm yet gentle as he goes back to his job as Minseok's self-appointed distraction.

The television with its murmured musings seem mute to Luhan, all he can hear is the way they're breathing, heavy and rapidly, and even if his legs are starting to hurt from its uncomfortable position half hanging off the sofa, he can't find the ability to say a word or even push Minseok away for a mere second.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

When Luhan sits up Minseok helps him pull his shirt off, flinging it in the general direction of his own missing top, and resuming his quest to mark as much as of Luhan’s uncovered skin as he can get his mouth on.

"We should move,” Luhan manages to rasp out, as Minseok’s lips trace over the dip between his two collarbones, tongue lapping over the smooth skin, drawing weak sounds from the model.

"Hmm," Minseok voice hums low, lips traveling farther down. Luhan doesn't reply right away, instead getting distracted when Minseok’s hands finally release their hold on his hips tracing down his legs, fondling his inner thighs, fingers just barely caressing Luhan's half-hard erection, Luhan finds himself groaning louder, hips canting upward on pure impulse.

"We should move to the bedroom," Luhan repeats. Minseok looks up, focusing his attention on Luhan's face and he grins, lips pulling back into a crooked smile and if Luhan wasn't so distracted by his desire he would have realized that his plans have finally succeeded. He has brought back the too confident, always teasing Minseok.

"Should we," Minseok asks, rolling his hips down. Luhan stifles a second groan, as he feels the hard press of Minseok's arousal against him. Luhan can only nod pathetically, it’s been so long since he had been with someone he truly liked and now with Minseok–who seemed to know his body as if it was his own–he was desperate for his touch, to feel the press of their bodies against one another. Skin to skin.

"And what do you want to do once we get there," Minseok asks, his face is so close to Luhan’s that with each word spoken Minseok's lips brush against Luhan's, not quite kissing him. It takes most of Luhan’s willpower to not appear as eager as he feels, and so he refrains himself from kissing Minseok mid-sentence stealing the rest of his words from his pretty lips.

"Anything you want," Luhan replies, his desire proving stronger than his resolve as he seals his promise with a needy kiss. After spending so much time just kissing Minseok he was finally ready to admit to himself just how addicted he'd become of Minseok's soft lips against his own. Minseok pulls away from him, climbing off of Luhan and helping him sit up.

He lets Minseok guide him to his bedroom, lets him push him down to sit at the very edge of his bed, but before Minseok can draw away, or continue on with whatever he has planned Luhan pulls him down over him, falling back against the bed, lips already taking home against Minseok's as he kisses away Minseok's lingering grin. Once again Minseok pulls away and any complaints die on Luhan’s tongue as Minseok begins kissing down his sternum, cool fingers ghosting over Luhan's nipples. Desperate hands move on their own accord, tangling in the short strands of Minseok's lips, and a tortured moan escapes through Luhan's parted lips.

Minseok hands lead the way down Luhan's abdomen, which his lips take their slow time to follow, sucking and biting marks along the way. As Minseok's hands finally brush against the hem of his pants, thin pink lips close over Luhan's right nipple and the long moan that slips from Luhan's lips cover the sound of pants zipping down so painstakingly slow.

Minseok's mouth works lewdly at each bud, tongue flickering, and loudly suckling as nimble fingers work at Luhan’s pants, leaving the model bare beneath him. Luhan's eyes are clenched shut, and his teeth are buried in his bottom lip to keep from pleading his desires. All Luhan can think of is Minseok and all the things he wants to do with Minseok, and all the things he wants Minseok to do to him. The last thought breaks Luhan out of his haze of lust and as Minseok begins kissing farther down his torso, Luhan finds himself tugging softly at Minseok's hair with his left hand, his right hand rests against Minseok's chin and he slowly guides him up.

"I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you," Luhan says, reminding Minseok of his original plan once Minseok is back to staring him eye to eye. There's a grin on his lips as his hands drop to Minseok's shorts, pulling them down quickly, using none of the tact nor patience Minseok possessed as he sucks his own marks along Minseok's collar. It feels as if hours has slipped away since he’d promised to distract Minseok in any way he could, time lost while they basked in their own peaceful world, blissfully ignorant for the moment to the chaos below them.

"But," Minseok says, stretching the word out as he slowly slides his left hand down the length of Luhan's body, feeling his thumping heart, and the way Luhan shivers against his touch. "You said we could do anything I want." He pauses with his hands low on Luhan's abdomen, mere centimeters from his erection. "And I want to touch you."

The moment Minseok's callused hand wraps around Luhan's stiff member, all reason leaves Luhan's mind as he sinks into bed, eyes closing on instinct as every slow drag and twist of Minseok's rough palm against him takes away a chunk of his sanity.

Just as Luhan wants to tell Minseok to move faster, pride easing away and his willingness to beg if needed raising, Minseok stops. The hand enclosed around his erection releases him, and the involuntary whine that leaves his lips has him flushing lightly.

“Do you want me to stop,” Minseok asks. Luhan opens his eyes frowning up at the secretary positioned above him, Luhan looks from the teasing glint in Minseok’s eyes to the still closed lubricant in his hands.

“No,” Luhan replies, and the glare he gives Minseok has him snickering lowly.

“Then I won’t,” Minseok says, hand once again wrapping around Luhan’s member, stroking once again at the same measured pace. Slick fingers prod at his entrance, teasing, until Luhan pushes down, silently pleading for Minseok to stop teasing him.

Minseok stretches him open, matching the pace his hand on Luhan's manhood has set. Every thrust of his fingers, and stroke of his hand turns Luhan into a whimpering, moaning mess. When Minseok finally halts his actions, Luhan’s legs widen on instant any and all shame he may have held leaving him as his desires flare up again, much stronger than before.

Minseok doesn't move right away, he stares down at him, eyes roaming along every inch of Luhan’s exposed body, making Luhan bite the inside of his cheek to prevent a pleased grin from surfacing. “Hurry up,” he complains, aching to finally feel Minseok inside of him. Minseok tears his gaze from Luhan's erection, flushed red and begging to be touched again.

“You pout too much,” Minseok replies. Luhan doesn't pout, but he doesn’t bother with getting worked up, about the statement, because Minseok has finally begun pushing into him.

With every inch Minseok presses into him, Luhan feels his walls stretching to accommodate him, and his impatience has him moving his hips before he has fully adjusted to Minseok inside him. Minseok catches on rather quickly, and he pulls out just as slowly as he pushed in, the rub of his cock against Luhan's inner walls causing the model to swear in ecstasy.

"More," he moans out, voice rasping as he speaks. Minseok looks down at him, his taunting aura has long disappeared, and he looks nearly as wrecked as Luhan feels and Luhan wants nothing more than to run his mouth over every inch of his skin. Minseok's hips snap forward, burying his cock inside him with a hard thrust that has Luhan moaning loudly, caught off guard his thoughts flee from his mind and all he can think of Minseok's penis.

"Just like that," he manages to rasp out as Minseok sets a steady pace, not too slow and each thrust driving into him harder than the last. Luhan brings Minseok into another kiss, pushing his tongue into Minseok's mouth, eyes shut hard as he focuses on Minseok's tongue running against his own and every thrust of Minseok's hips.

"There," Luhan practically yells as Minseok brushes against the bundle of nerves inside him. "There. There. There." He repeats, stuck on the word as Minseok listens to his request, moving harder against his prostate. His hands are wrapped against Minseok's biceps, anchoring him down, as Minseok drills into him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge and as he tells Minseok this, the latter wraps a hand around his shaft working him in time to his thrusts.

It's Minseok's low moans and the dirty words whispered into his ear that drives him over the edge making him spill into Minseok's palm, and Minseok follows soon after, hips slowing as he succumbs to his own orgasm.

********

There's a lull of silence, of momentary peace in the aftermath. In that silence, tangled in too warm blankets, Luhan feels restless.

He had fallen back to earth, stumbled his way back into the real world where he and Minseok were keeping secrets and telling lies while the rest of the world burned around them. That was the problem with distractions, they weren't permanent, and now since that blinding haze of lust had finally evaporated, and emotions he had been fighting to keep at bay, ones he hadn’t known the names of, and more now were once again surfacing.

Luhan sits up, and he can feel Minseok’s eyes on him as he struggles out of the confines of his blanket, and even still as he pets pathetically at his unkempt hair, trying to fix the unruly strands as a means of distraction. When that doesn’t work, and with his hair refusing to comply with his hands’ guidance, Luhan gives up. Instead, he looks around his room. Most of his bedding is spilling onto the floor at the base of his bed. Minseok’s shorts and his pants are mingled in the bulk of things that have hit the floor around it as well.

Minseok begins shifting about on the large bed breaking Luhan from his thoughts, and the model finds himself climbing off of the bed, before Minseok can reach out and grasp him.

 “I’m going to take a shower,” he announces, looking over to Minseok’s general direction but not meeting the secretary’s eyes. He doesn’t give the older male time to respond, and instead crosses the wide space of the room and heads to the bathroom, locking himself inside.

********

"So are you avoiding me now," Minseok asks as he steps out of Luhan's bedroom. He's dressed in new clothes and his hair is still damp with droplets of shower water.

"What," Luhan asks. Minseok's eyes which are typically expressive is hard to read, but the corners of his lips are tugged down into a frown. "No," he says, answering Minseok's question and gesturing for Minseok to join him, back on the couch.

Minseok quirks a single eyebrow but he follows Luhan's request, settling down on the couch, but sitting so far away Luhan can't help but notice the deliberate distance.

"What was that about then," Minseok asks, referring to the way Luhan had ignored him and nearly fled off the bed and away from him. The question is nearly whispered and his blank but inquiring eyes have dropped their hold on Luhan to stare at the space in front of him.

Luhan feels a hint of guilt as he looks at Minseok, he had sworn almost daily that Minseok had been a step above all his previous lovers. He was the one that had felt different than the others and so Luhan had implied that he would be treated different, yet the moment they'd slept together Luhan had seemed to pull away.

"It was nothing," Luhan says. "I was just lost in my thoughts."

"What kind of thoughts," Minseok asks, he looks up to Luhan, brown eyes narrowed, as if he doesn't believe him.

"Stupid thoughts," Luhan says, but as the words leave his lips, he realizes just how much it sounds like a question. "It wasn't because of you," Luhan says, becoming more confident in his words despite the partial lie that leaves his lips. "The situation we're in just kind of hit me, and at the time it felt weird to lay with you and be happy."

Minseok doesn't respond right away, but when he does he sounds confused and hesitant, as if he expects Luhan to say something different. "Will it happen again? Should I expect you to run away every time we sleep together because your mind suddenly reminds you of some tragedy. There tend to be a lot these days, people are always dying, there are constant attacks, constant raids, and rebels are every where. The people living on the floor below could be highly dangerous rebels."

Luhan frowns, but he moves in his seat until his whole body is facing Minseok. "I thought you died. You're the only person I know who uses the subway, and you work in District One and I couldn't get in contact with you. I couldn't shake the image of you lying lifeless and alone under rubble and debris. So if all those other attacks and raids directly involve you, then yes I might freak out for a moment or two." He bites his tongue before he can say more, he wants to say more, to voice that final thought in his head, but he decides against it for Minseok's sake and not his own.

Luhan doesn't want to overwhelm Minseok with his feelings, a few minutes ago it looked as if he believed Luhan didn't want him, but if he knew just how badly Luhan did want him, Luhan was sure he'd be afraid. Luhan himself was afraid of how deeply he cared for Minseok, it was beginning to border on the line of dangerous.

The hostility leaves Minseok eyes, and he opens his mouth as if he's about to speak only to close it. He's frowning again, but the fire that lit up his eyes has died.

It isn't silent for long, instead of Minseok speaking, a loud knocking against Luhan's front door interrupts them.

Minseok's soft gaze is quickly replaced with a look of worry, and he turns away from Luhan, instead focusing his attention towards the direction of the apartment entrance.

Luhan finds himself clenching his jaw in annoyance, but with one look towards Minseok, he finds himself worrying over the secretary instead. Minseok stands up, face slowly draining of color, and bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

"Don't worry," Luhan finds himself whispering as his gaze remains trained on Minseok despite the continuous banging. "It's probably no one important."

"What should I do," Minseok asks, and Luhan can't help but notice the way his lips tremble just the slightest as he speaks.

"Go to my room," Luhan replies. He stands as well, hands resting on Minseok's shoulders. "I'll be fast," he promises with a smile, "It's probably just Kyungsoo." He leans in and presses a kiss on the left side of Minseok's face right under his hairline, as a sign of reassurance.

The knocking stops for a moment and both Luhan and Minseok both freeze. When the knocking starts back up again, Minseok pulls away and heads back to Luhan's bedroom. Once the door closes behind him, Luhan heads towards his front door.

He stops once he's in front of the door, fixes his hair, and attempts to gather his wits, and then he opens the door.

He had planned to open the door wide enough for him to see his visitors without them being able to see deeply into his apartment, but the person on the opposite side has a different idea. They push the door open, causing Luhan to stumble backwards, and allowing two familiar figures to enter.

The annoyance Luhan had initially felt when he first heard the knocking resurfaces as he closes his door and glares at the pair. "What are you doing here, and why didn't you call first?"

Junmyeon doesn't answer him, instead he turns towards the kitchen, mumbling something about water.

"We tried to call," Yixing says as he and Luhan follow after Junmyeon. "We've been trying to reach you for nearly an hour."

Junmyeon is seated upon Luhan's kitchen counter, eyes closed as he sips his glass of water. Yixing walks over to him, resting his body against the other Perfect, and accepting the glass of water from Junmyeon when it's handed to him. The pair both look exhausted, Junmyeon's hair is unruly and he looks as if he'd thrown on the first pieces of clothing he managed to scavenge from his closet. Yixing is dressed properly and hair seems fine, but Luhan's sure that if Junmyeon wasn't helping to support him, he'd tip over.

As he watches the pair, he feels the annoyance of them coming over unannounced and scaring Minseok, ease away.

"What happened," Luhan asks, getting a second glass of water and handing it to Junmyeon.

"What happened," Yixing repeats with a sardonic quirk of his lips. "Come on Lu, you've got to know what's happened by now."

"That's not what I meant," Luhan replies. "What have you two been up to since...you know?"

"Work," Junmyeon says, finally speaking. The glass in his hand that Luhan had filled to the brim now half empty. "So much work. Every member of the CNS stationed in this city, and half of District Police have been out gathering Imperfects."

Luhan just barely notices the grimace on Yixing as he wallows in his own guilt, teeth biting on his bottom lip as if his brain decided that he needed some kind of punishment for undermining important government work.

"Even though a lot of the Imperfect population has managed to flee, there are still so many left in the city both registered and unregistered," Yixing states.

"The unregistered are the worse," Junmyeon adds with a groan. "It's such a hassle to track them down and try to verify the fake identities they use. Some of them are great at pretending."

The sound of a door opening and closing distracts both men, and Luhan turns towards the kitchen entrance just as Minseok walks up to it. "Ah," Yixing says, a grin spreading across his face as he looks from Luhan to Minseok. "Now we know why you weren't answering your phone.” He focuses solely on Minseok next, the newfound playfulness of his expression melting away the former tiredness. “Minseok, what are you doing here?”

"He's staying here until the subway system can be restored," Luhan says, answering for Minseok. The lie slipping from his lips easily.

"You should have come to us instead," Yixing says with a sly grin. "Our hotel is a lot better than Luhan’s boring old place, and you’d have me and Junmyeon protecting you. Luhan can barely even take care of himself.” Luhan simply glares at the younger male, Yixing’s teasing is done to rile him up, and to Luhan it was a sign that Yixing was not nearly as exhausted as he appeared to be.

The four men move to the living room. The television is still muted, but back on the news channel. Flashes of reporters and chaos flutter across the screen as the group talks.

"We had to calm down a crowd of half a million parade attendees," Yixing says, his lip jutting out unconsciously as he goes back to talking about what Junmyeon and he had been doing in the pass twenty-four hours. "That was probably the worse. Stopping people from stampeding and trampling others. Reuniting missing children with their panicking parents. I'm never working the parade again," he ends his declaration by leaning back and resting his head against the sofa.

"Then we had to hunt down Imperfects," Junmyeon says. "This city does a terrible job at tagging them. Most of them are assumed to be dead, when they probably just cut out their trackers."

"Trackers," Luhan repeats the word, unintentionally interrupting Junmyeon.

"An outdated device," Junmyeon explains. "Imperfects used to be brought to detention centers, and scientists would sedate them and plant a faulty microscopic device under their skin. It was supposed to keep us aware of Imperfect activity at all times and so there were no other tagging means. Eventually Imperfects caught on, and started removing them, and since the trackers were prototypes at the time, some just stopped working."

Luhan can't help but grimace at the explanation. Even though the Physicians of their world were just scientists that preferred to work individually instead of in the labs, Luhan despised scientists, and no matter how much he didn't like the mere existence of Imperfects, he felt a bit of pity at the idea of them being lab rats.

"After the attack yesterday I can guarantee you that the city will be changing the policies. They hadn't wanted to at first because the Red Light is a pretty big commercial district in this city, and many of those in District One back the brothel owners, but we've already started the new tagging system." It was known that brothel owners had their own means of tagging their workers, black tattoos were inked across skin just below the ear, different designs representing different brothels.

"What kind of system," Minseok asks from beside Luhan. It's the first thing he has said since Junmyeon and Yixing arrived.

"Identification codes," Junmyeon says, "like the ones Perfects already have embedded in our skin, and an extensive profile. Before we only had a database of pictures and code names, now we're recording names, blood types, and ailments any may have, even their relatives and other close relationships. It's something that we used to do for the important members of The Red Devils, but attacks like this have been happening all over the globe and we're trying to crackdown on them."

"Is that all," Minseok asks, lips falling into another deep frown.

"No," Junmyeon replies with a shake of his head. "The last measure is a new and improved tracking device. Once planted inside an Imperfect, the Imperfect can't remove it or try to flee out of city lines or else it will detonate."

A silence overtakes the room, and Luhan doesn't know what to say or do. Junmyeon's gaze is directed at Minseok, but Minseok has dropped his own gaze, glare set at Luhan's carpeted floor and Luhan figures he's thinking about his parents, worried what could happen if they don't get to a compound in time.

"It's going to take a while before the subway gets repaired," Junmyeon says next. "Yixing and I were sent down to inspect it this morning. Most of it is completely caved in and the rest seems like it will fall apart in the next few days. I don't get why they would destroy something that Imperfects mainly use."

"So what happens next," Luhan asks.

Yixing sits up at this, his tired eyes are narrowed and his lips are pulled into a frown. "You go back to your lives in a day or two, and we continue searching for the culprits of the attacks." He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees, and it reminds Luhan of the reporters bending forward, tempting viewers to listen with rapt interest. "I can guarantee you that in a few weeks Capital City will host its first public execution in nearly ten years."

When it’s time for Yixing and Junmyeon to leave, Yixing stands and hugs Luhan. The younger male, mutters a simple “be safe,” and let’s go. When he turns to hug Minseok, Junmyeon asks Luhan to escort him back to the entrance.

“What are they talking about,” Luhan asks, waiting at his apartment door with Junmyeon for Yixing.

“We’re going to be busy from now on, and Yixing just wants to make sure there’s someone looking out for you.”

“You know,” Luhan starts, and maybe he’s a bit tired himself, but he doesn’t feel like arguing. “I’ve been taking care of myself pretty well those years you two weren’t around. I’m not sure what Minseok can do that I haven’t done.”

“Well he can watch your back for you,” Yixing says. “I know you think things don’t affect you because you’re just a model, but that’s not true. Even if the rest of the world doesn’t know who you really are, they know you’re not just some nobody model. There have been tabloids with you and some of the most powerful people of our generation. It’s only a matter of time before someone thinks to use you as a pawn in this.”


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

Inside the parking deck of the grey and imposing Li Corporation the setting sun reflects orange against the shining body of the many cars still present. Luhan leans against the rear of his own car, reading the message he'd only just received from Minseok. The secretary would be home late once more due to catching up on all the work the company had neglected since the attack.

Just as Yixing predicted, the city had went back to their lives despite knowing that the person or persons responsible for the attack in District One were still on the loose. Minseok was one of the many that fell back into routine as if the attack had just been another part of the holiday.

Luhan had gotten so used to having Minseok there all the time that for the first two days after Minseok returned to work he had felt lost. Being trapped inside of his apartment with the other for so many days had thrown him off of whatever semblance of a routine he had prior to the attack. On the third day, Kyungsoo had called him, reminding him of the shoot that they had discussed at the banquet. That brief phone call, had been what helped drag Luhan out of his distracted mindset, reminding him that he too had a life to get back to.

It was with that new found motivation that Luhan found himself at Kris’s company. Usually Luhan only visited during the afterhours, when only a handful of employees lingered about finishing up work, but today the giant company is filled with people. Even with Kris's ability to do much more work than what was necessary, Luhan could only imagine how much more work his department was trying to catch up on after spending four whole days doing nothing.

As Luhan makes his way to Kris's office, he can feel the eyes on him as he passes cubical after cubical. They all know him, and they all know that Luhan has some type of relationship with the department head, but the only person that knows of their actual relationship is Jongdae.

Speaking of Jongdae, the brown haired male isn't at his usual post right outside of Kris's office. However, Luhan notices a second empty desk that hadn't been there during his last visit and figures the new piece of furniture is for the too smiley, too twitchy intern Park Chanyeol.

With a small frown of disdain, Luhan moves with swift steps across the room, opening the door to Kris's office, and not bothering to knock.

"Did Yixing and Junmyeon visit…" he trails off. Sitting atop Kris's desk is Chanyeol, black electronic tablet clutched in his hands as he looms over Kris, lips pressed against the blond male's.

Luhan looks from where their faces are connected to where Kris's hand lingers on Chanyeol's thigh even after they pull apart.

Chanyeol eyes have widen in surprise as he gazes at Luhan. He then turns to Kris, muttering out something so low that Luhan can’t hear, can only see his lips moving, and then he’s standing, shuffling pass Luhan, head bowed in embarrassment and long legs taking him out of the room as quick as they can.

"So are you still denying your attraction to him or has shoving your tongue down his throat helped you realize it?" Luhan slumps into a chair in front of Kris's desk, arms crossed in front of him and eyes void of emotion. His words were supposed to come off as a joke, but instead the words are spit in such a reproachful tone that Luhan bites his tongue to avoid saying more.

Kris doesn't say anything right away, his eyes are lingering on the door as if he’s dying to call Chanyeol back and continue whatever Luhan just witnessed even if Luhan is sitting right in front of him. When he finally does look at Luhan he sighs and stands, walking around his desk to be right in front of his friend.

"Are you mad right now," Kris asks, but all Luhan can hear is the annoyance in his tone.

“Am I mad,” Luhan asks, eyebrows wrinkling in fake confusion. “That you’re kissing your intern?” He can feel himself getting annoyed as well, but he shakes his head, to answer Kris’s question. "No, I mean it is a bit cliché, but I’m not mad. Why would I be? It does make sense now, why your blind dates have always failed. You already have a type. First Jongdae, and now him, maybe your father should find you an employee instead of an heiress."

Kris bites down on his teeth, jaw clenching and eyebrows furrowing over narrowed eyes. Luhan does think that he shouldn't have been so sarcastic, but for Kris to be so obtuse he couldn't stop himself from becoming annoyed. How could he not realize that he was upset, and that the reason wasn't because of the person he was kissing like Luhan was sure he assumed, but the situation Luhan had stumbled upon?

“Do you really think you of all people should be making jokes like that,” Kris finally says, arms crossed in front of him as he frowns down at Luhan.

Luhan’s fiery glare, meets Kris’s cold challenging eyes and he feels his hands curling, turning into tight fists. The brief forgiving annoyance he felt begins to morph into something different. “That’s not the same,” he snaps, just as the hurt begins to slip into the cracks filling and replacing his previous irritation, with a mixture of pained anger.

“Really,” Kris asks, voice taking on a tone of mock disbelief, “you really think so? How many Nessen employees have been fired or have quit after getting involved with you? You know the only technical difference between us is that Jongdae and Chanyeol both knew what they were getting into when they got involved with me. No one knows just how golden, the golden boy of Nessen is do they? Not even–”

“Shut up,” Luhan exclaims. At first he moves to stand, but he thinks against it a second later, slumping back into the seat and refusing to meet Kris’s eyes. "You know it's different. There's nothing I need to tell anyone. All that is, all that's ever been was..." He trails off not wanting to explain _that_ to the one person who was supposed to understand.

Kris looks as if he's going to say something, his cold eyes have softened and the frown on his lips has eased away. However, he simply shakes his head. "What are you doing here, Luhan?"

"I don't know," Luhan says. He can still feel the anger and the betrayal, but he keeps his tone as neutral as possible. "I thought I was here to see my friend, but apparently I can't do that anymore unless I want to catch you kissing your employees." Kris grimaces, and Luhan stands, fixing his jacket as he does so.

"I'll leave," he announces. Part of him wants to stay, but he knows that they both need time to cool off, and Luhan doubts he’d forgive the younger if he apologized at the moment. "You can call Chanyeol back, and maybe we'll talk some other time."

He does as he's says and leaves the office. Kris doesn't call after him and Luhan doesn't bother looking back to him. Outside of the office, Jongdae's desk is still empty, and Chanyeol sits with his head down, eyes focused on his work. Luhan stares at him until the intern looks up, grabbing at his water bottle and locking eyes with him. Chanyeol coughs in surprise, hand letting go of the water and attention going back to his work. In any different situation Luhan would feel a sense of smugness at causing such a reaction, but now all Luhan can do is glare at the boy.

Luhan finally comes across Jongdae while he's waiting for the elevator. The younger male is standing inside of it, juggling stacks of office files in his hands. "Walk me to my car," Luhan tells him, entering the elevator and pressing the button for the groundfloor before Jongdae can protest.

"What's wrong," Jongdae asks, moving about as he tries to rearrange the folders in his arms.

"You care about Kris right," Luhan asks, taking some of the files out of Jongdae's arms and helping to organize them. "As more than a loyal employee?"

The edges of Jongdae’s lips tug downward, but nods his head, taking the rest of the files from Luhan as the elevator opens to the main lobby. "That's right," he says.

"So then you wouldn't let him date just anyone," Luhan asks next.

"I'm not exactly in charge of who he dates," Jongdae tells him, following after the model.

"I'm aware of that," Luhan says, "but I'm also aware that Kris holds your opinion in higher regards than mine." He gives a soft laugh and continues. "Honestly he probably holds everyone's opinion higher than my own."

He can't remember if Kris stopped asking about his opinion on relationships when Luhan started making terrible decisions regarding his own affairs, or if it was a side effect of being too protective of Kris, maybe he had gotten fed up with Luhan finding fault in all the people he was remotely interested in. When he turns to look at Jongdae, the younger is regarding him with a sort of pitying expression, and Luhan can't help but roll his eyes. When it came to making decisions about his own relationships, he rarely asked for Kris's opinion unless it was about something serious.

"Lucky for me, I value your opinion nearly as much as Kris does. That's why I asked you out here, because if there's anyone who knows the answer to my next question, shouldn't it be the person that is beside Kris 24/7?" He's making Jongdae uncomfortable, he can see it by the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down and how he shuffles from foot to foot.

"What do you think of Chanyeol," he finally asks.

"Chanyeol," Jongdae repeats, and then he smiles, the unease leaving his face. "You don't have to worry about Chanyeol, Luhan. He comes off a bit strange at first, but he seems like a good person."

"Have you done a background check," Luhan asks, not willing to be comforted by just that. "Kris's father won't approve of him."

"Would Kris's father approve of anyone Kris chose himself," Jongdae asks in return. "His background is clean, did pretty okay in high school, and went to college for a bit. Apparently he wanted to work for District Police but failed one of the exams. Kris is safe with him."

Luhan doesn't say anything at first, he stares at Jongdae searching for something to give him away. He knows where the younger male's loyalties lie, but he can't imagine Jongdae choosing to support something that can somehow get Kris hurt.

"Fine," he says. "Thanks for talking to me." He turns then, entering his car. He knows Jongdae is still standing beside the car, but his thoughts travel back to Chanyeol coughing at his desk, and he can't help fight the feeling that something just isn't right.

********

Luhan wakes early, not as early as Minseok who leaves at 6am like he has done every day since returning to work, but still early. Kyungsoo is waiting for him in his expensive black luxury car, and the moment Luhan enters it, Kyungsoo is looking him over, only to have the expression soften seconds later.

“Do you know anything about a party,” Luhan asks, as Kyungsoo starts driving.

“Why,” Kyungsoo asks in return. “Are you planning to have another?”

“No,” Luhan replies with a shake of his head. “President Kim has Minseok in charge of planning a party. I wanted to know if you knew anything about it.” Last night Minseok had returned home at a quarter to one in the morning, exhausted. When Luhan asked him what President Kim had him doing, the secretary said something about a party and then quickly ended the conversation stating that it was still classified information.

Kyungsoo is silent, as Luhan draws his attention away from him to yawn softly and focus on the window beside him.

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “I can’t recall anything about a party.”

The pair don't speak after that. Luhan finds himself too curious about what it was that President Kim was planning to celebrate to try and make conversation.

“What did President Kim say about Minseok living with you,” Luhan hears Kyungsoo asks, which effectively breaks him from his musings. Luhan thoughts then drift to the day before when he had hoped to discuss this very topic with Kris only to come across an unwelcome sight.

“Minseok told him,” Luhan says. “He hasn’t contacted me since and Minseok seemed fine that evening. He said President Kim was too busy to care, but that doesn’t sound like him at all. Do you think he’s planning something?” He knows he's coming off paranoid, but it was suspicious and it wasn't like he could speak to Minseok about his doubt. Every time Luhan thought of telling Minseok about those worries he would stop and recall President Kim's words, from when he had walked into Luhan's kitchen and planted the first seed of paranoia.

Kim Minseok was not who Luhan thought he was, and yet Luhan still had no clue what that might mean.

“I don’t think he’s planning something,” Kyungsoo says, pausing after each word as if he’s trying to gather his thoughts at the same time. "I don't think President Kim has a problem with Minseok staying with you because to him it might be like insurance. You told me that President Kim decided you weren’t allowed to have just anyone staying with you, and for him to allow it, doesn’t that mean that he doesn’t see Minseok as just anyone.”

Luhan scowls, hand playing with his hair as he thinks over Kyungsoo's words.

"So," he begins, just a hint of uncertainty to his words. "I'm proving to President Kim just how much I care about Minseok by allowing him to stay with me. He won't do anything because he's waiting for me to step out of line and then he'll threaten me with Minseok's wellbeing." He doesn't need Kyungsoo to confirm his theory, it sounded every bit like the old man, always calculating, always looking for an advantage against his rivals, and when it came to Luhan, he was always steps ahead.

"All I have to do is listen to him and Minseok will be safe," he says the thought out loud. He turns to Kyungsoo then, but the younger male is focused on the road ahead. "Something's not right." Before Kyungsoo can say anything to alleviate his worries he continues, "I've always done what he's wanted. Of course every now and then I'll ignore him, but he knows that he doesn't need to do anything more than a threat to get me to listen. Why is he suddenly using other people to control me?"

"Because he's cruel and sadistic," Kyungsoo remarks, a grimace on his face as if he can recollection the president's previous threats and punishments. He can't. President Kim never threatens Luhan in public, and haunting humiliation has made Luhan refuse to talk of his punishments to anyone.

"There has to be more to it," Luhan mutters.

"We're here," Kyungsoo says pulling into the near empty car park. "Look, you can talk to Minseok about your suspicions, or you can wait until president Kim makes his move. Right now he's the one with the advantage."

Luhan sighs, but nods his head, Kyungsoo's right he can't do anything at the moment, not that he could even if he knew what President Kim was planning. He couldn't get Minseok involved either, he had no idea that President Kim was using him to threaten Luhan, and Luhan could tell that he was still worried about his parents. He didn't want to add on to that.

It isn't until Luhan's seated in front of his makeup artist, listening to her tales and gossip, that he realizes just how much he missed modeling. He would never thank President Kim for forcing him into his career, but when there, working with the photographers, and the crew, and simply doing his job, he enjoyed it.

The more work he did with familiar faces, the more there was a sense of comraderie, between them. Luhan didn’t have any friends in the entertainment industry but he had people he respected and valued, and liked to work with. His first job in months consist of all those people he respects, and the shoot goes smoothly.

“It was nice working with you Luhan,” The makeup artist says when she’s done packing up her things. It’s the end of the photo shoot, and Luhan is waiting for Kyungsoo to return and drive him home. He looks up to the woman just as she pushes her fringe out of her eyes and gives him a sadden grin. He’s close to asking her what she means, but she pushes forward winding her arms around him in a tight hug as she mutters a goodbye.

Luhan watches as she leaves, feeling his confusion grow by the second. The sudden blaring of his phone interrupts the silence, and Luhan picks it up off the table beside him, the words “National Announcement” flashes across the screen as he looks down at it. He feels his heart begin to beat faster as he opens the message sent.

At first he sees a picture of two boys in their late teens, lips downturned and eyes set in a fierce glare, then he notices the tattoos. Their left arms are raised below their chin, showing off the Red Devil horns on their inner wrists, a usual indicator of low-ranking members of the Red Devils. Luhan begins to read the text below the pictures:

 _At 13:00, Two members of the Red Devils were found in an abandoned factory in District Nine._  
  _The pair have since been taken into custody by Caelum’s National Security for an examination_  
  _and trail. Stay tuned for more updates as they become available._                                                


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

It starts like one of his dreams.

Groups of people crowd into the courtyard for an eyewitness account of the event. At the front of the crowd reporters from all over the country have gathered, cameras and camcorders pointed at the makeshift stage and the two woven nooses awaiting their victims. Behind them are civilians, some sit but most stand. Not a single soul speaks as they stand in somber silence, dark clothes, and equally dark expressions waiting with chilling patience for the two rebels.

He feels the slight squeeze of Minseok’s hand, and looks down to their interlaced fingers then up towards the secretary. "Are you okay," Minseok asks him, speaking in a whisper as if their talking will somehow disturb the people on screen. Luhan nods and turns back to the television.

The judge appears first, black robes gliding against the stage as he walks with precise steps to its center. He stands with threatening authority, shoulders back, and grey-haired head held high as he gives a sweeping glance over the crowd. Luhan knows him. It’s the very judge Luhan had witnessed arguing with a guard at the banquet. Cruel and vindictive, Luhan was sure that if the rebels weren’t already predestined for death, the judge would have found a way to hand it to them regardless.

The two rebels arrive after him, hands bound behind their backs, and heads bowed. The executioner is in between them, each hand clasped onto a boy's bicep, and around the stage stands armed guards.

Once each boy has a noose wrapped around their neck, bruising and constricting, the judge begins reading out their long lists of charges. Luhan can hear each word spoken, but can't seem to focus on it. His attention has been stolen as one boy lifts his head, his lips moving in a silent, but pleased manner. Luhan turns then, revulsion swelling up inside of him and instead he focuses on Minseok. "As so defined," the judge bellows out. "The sentence for such acts against the state is death." Minseok's eyes are trained on the television, not once wavering even as each boy receives their sentence.

"That doesn't do what they think it does," Minseok says.

"What," Luhan asks, turning back to the television where the judge has begun to speak again. The words, “ _To doubt is to sin_ ,” echoing in Luhan’s head.

"That," Minseok says nodding his head in the direction of the television. "Every bit of it, it doesn't work like how they want to believe it does. To the people being executed, it's an honor. To many of those Imperfects, dying a martyr is the greatest honor one can have. And for others seeing someone die for such a cause makes them want to look into the cause. It's ineffective."

"So,” Luhan begins, focusing all his attention on Minseok. “You think they got caught on purpose?”

"I think they did," Minseok agrees. "But I don't think the attack was in hopes to gain more support."

Luhan doesn’t ask him anymore questions, the only people who knew the true motive behind the attack were just executed for all the world to witness. Instead he refocuses his attention to the television, where a discussion of Rebels and Imperfects have begun. "They are a danger to society," one man exclaims with sudden indignation. His face is red and twisted into a disgusting frown. Even as he continues to speak, Luhan can't tell if he's talking about the Red Devils or all of the Imperfects still living.

Luhan doesn't get to hear more, the television flickers off and instead of having his attention drawn to the red faced angry man, his focus is now directed to his and Minseok's reflection in the clean black television screen.

"You know," Minseok starts, and Luhan turns to him, eyes drawn to the curl of his lips and then looking up to catch his eyes. "It's probably safe for me to go back home now that the Rebels have been caught." Luhan doesn’t respond right away, instead he keeps his gaze steady, wondering if Minseok’s joking.

"The subway still isn't fixed," Luhan tells him.

"I'll figure out a way to get to work and back," Minseok replies.

"Why figure out a solution to a problem that doesn't have to exist," Luhan says in return.

"I said it would only be temporary," Minseok points out, seeming to have a counterargument for everything Luhan says. The model nods his head in understanding and agreement, but he’s not yet ready to give up.

"I said you should stay as long as you needed to," Luhan retorts. "That doesn't mean you need to go back as soon as the threat to your freedom is over, unless you would like to." Luhan pushes closer then, looking over Minseok and letting the frown he didn’t know he had melt into what he hopes is a supportive smile.

"Do you want to go back Minseok," he asks. "If you really want to I'll understand." Minseok's eyes flicker to his, the thoughtful look erasing as he searches Luhan's eyes. Luhan doesn't speak as he watches Minseok's playful smile, broaden into something more genuine.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay a bit longer," Minseok says, with a slight uncertain inflection. Luhan doesn't get a chance to reply as Minseok's hand encloses around the nape of his neck pulling him closer until their lips meet.

"I like you way too much," Luhan mumbles against Minseok's lips as they draw away just enough to slow down their breathing. Minseok recaptures Luhan’s lips, kissing with much more passion the second time around that Luhan has to hold Minseok's hips to anchor himself. When they pull away, kiss-swollen lips tug into its biggest smile of the day and Luhan feels his own smile surfacing as he gazes at Minseok.

"I could say the same," Minseok says, and then he does so, leaning in until his lips have touched Luhan's ear, he breathes the words out in a whisper. "Luhan I like you way too much," he says, his tone lifting at the end.

** **** **

Luhan jerks awake, lips parting and chest heaving as he breathes in quick bursts of air. He blinks his eyes open, closes them, and opens them once more. Repeating the action over and over as he tries to focus on the dark ceiling above his head. He closes his eyes one final time, willing the fragments of his nightmare away just as the bed shifts.

He doesn't open his eyes even as the presence beside him presses closer. Fingers thread through his hair in a calming manner, and the soft voice calling out his name battles away the last few bits of his dream, causing him to open his eyes.

"Are you okay," Minseok asks, and he turns to look at him. Minseok’s eyes are narrowed in concern, and as Luhan’s gaze drops he notices Minseok’s pink lips pursed together, and further down the first four buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, exposing just a bit of his upper chest.

"Fine," he mutters, pushing himself to sit up and feeling the hand drop from his hair. "Just a bad dream." Minseok's eyebrows rise in question, and Luhan gives him a weak smile in return. He still hasn't told Minseok about the chronic nightmares nor his ceaseless insomnia, but he sees no point in lying about it. He's aware that Minseok has some idea about the dreams. Since he's been taking his sleeping pills dutifully after the attack, every morning after waking, Minseok eyes would follow him around the apartment, signs of concern etched into every inch of his face.

"Sorry," he says drawing in a shaky breath. "Are you still helping President Kim plan his secret party?"

Minseok grimaces. "It's almost over," he explains as he goes back to buttoning his shirt. "Just two more weeks. Right now I'm just sending out invitations."

"Do you need help," Luhan asks. He falters a bit when Minseok looks at him with a curious gaze, but then smiles. "The guest list for these types of events never change, and after attending quite a few, you can't help but become acquainted with some of the people who attend."

Minseok nods his head in understanding, but says he doesn’t need help. “You can make sure your friends have their schedule cleared for the date until I can send them formal invitations,” Minseok suggests. He pauses then, hesitating, but Luhan watches him with a calm patience. “President Kim made it explicitly clear that you should be there on time,” Minseok finally says, “according to him you are the guest of honor.”

Luhan finds his jaw clenching in disdain at the words “guest of honor.” “Of course I would be,” he replies, with a fake grin. “I’ll try to keep my already clear schedule… clearer.”

** **** **

Luhan doesn’t realize how long he has truly been out of the public’s eyes until he’s thrusted right back into it. He can still recall the last two reports he’d seen of himself online. The first entitled _Luhan from Hedonist Model to Model Citizen_ , and had gotten a long laugh out of him and Kris, as he read it aloud in the younger Perfect’s office. The second one, written a month and a half ago, had simply been titled _Where is Luhan?_ With its speculations of retirement, and decline in popularity, it hadn’t brought much of a laugh to Luhan’s lips.

He had transformed from being in the spotlight every second of every hour, to being whatever he was at the moment, and it hadn’t struck him how quickly the transformation happened until now.

For the first time since the subway attack, Luhan finds _The Grand Capital Hall_ alive once more. Reporters and photographers are grouped together in all directions. Cameras flash in rapid succession as he climbs the steps of the building. He can hear various calls of his name, over the loud noise flashes, and the constant chatter, but he doesn't bother looking into their direction, too busy wondering about the cause for celebration.

Kyungsoo is waiting for him inside the building just as they planned, and the two men head towards the ballroom where President Kim's party was to be held. He stops at the entrance to the ballroom, taking in the side before he has to force himself to put on a polite smile.

"What do you suppose this is for," Luhan asks Kyungsoo, eyes sweeping along the length of the room. He can already spot a few of the company's other entertainers and he's sure he spotted a member of the board only a moment ago.

Kyungsoo grimaces, eyes straying to catch Luhan's. "I think you should let President Kim announce it."

"You know," Luhan accuses, stepping closer to Kyungsoo and frowning at his manager. Of course Kyungsoo knows, whatever the party is for it was obviously in relation to the company, and it made sense that Kyungsoo would know first.

"Just let President Kim explain," Kyungsoo suggests a second time. The last thing Luhan wants to do is wait around for President Kim to approach him, but he nods his head, feeling exasperated and ready to leave. His eyes roam over to the makeshift stage at the edge of the room, grey-carpeted, and hoisting up a glass podium. He can't help the unease that washes over him.

Unlike the last event the ballroom played home to, Luhan feels more welcome. He's amongst his peers, the fellow entertainers and socialites flock to him, treating him like an equal. Even the businessmen that usually ogled him but ignored him when he walked by, greet him.

Despite it all, Luhan never sees President Kim, and it seems that Minseok is missing as well. He knew before even arriving that he wouldn't have much of a chance to talk to the secretary. If Minseok wasn't in the shadows making sure the party he planned went smoothly, then he was steps behind President Kim following him in a way that would remind him of Jongdae and Kris. His eyes narrow as his gaze roam along the room, locking on Kris.

He knew he was being childish, but it still stung when he thought about their fight. Kris hadn't apologized, hadn't sought him out since then, and Luhan knew that it usually went the opposite way. Luhan was supposed to go back to Kris when the anger had simmered, but he couldn't this time around.

The echoing chatter of the ballroom dies down into a soft almost nonexistent murmur. Luhan's eyes follow the gazes of those around him until he's staring at the temporary stage. Beside the gray carpeted stage stands Minseok, eyes trained ahead, and upon the stage stands President Kim.

Luhan begins moving as his company president begins to speak, catching only the tiniest fragment of the words as he sets out on his own personal mission. He grins to himself, near empty glass flute in his hand as he dances around attendee after attendee. He stops when he's right in front of Minseok, bringing the glass to his lips as he stares into blank eyes with a teasing grin.

Minseok meets his gaze and the stoic expression eases into a simple smile, brown eyes losing the glint of obvious boredom. They're still feet apart, but if Luhan reaches out he could probably touch him, and the temptation to stride over and convince Minseok to sneak off with him has him dropping his gaze momentarily to the shining wooden floor.

When he looks up, Minseok's smile has disappeared. His lips move, mouthing silent words, and he gestures towards the stage with a subtle tilt of his head. Luhan looks up at the stage, meeting President Kim's impatient glare, and he steps closer to Minseok.

Minseok grabs Luhan's glass with a whispered, "Good luck," and Luhan steps forward until he's standing on the grey stage beside the company president, a confused smile lingering on his lips.

"Luhan," President Kim says, lips quirked in as close to a smile as he can probably get. "He has been a household name since he was sixteen, and in recent years has become a valuable mentor to the newer entertainers, and an important connection between our entertainment agency and various corporations looking to work with us. I've watched Luhan grow from a young inexperienced model to the powerful businessman he is today, and like a father watching after his son, my heart swells with pride."

Luhan doesn't laugh. His smile broadens and he can feel his face grow warm and he can't tell if it's from forcing himself not to laugh, but he hopes he looks bashful. There has to be press in the crowd, that's the only reasonable explanation behind President Kim's over-the-top speech. The older man turns towards him, slamming a hand on his shoulder, and his smile, his smile is so forced and so ugly that Luhan has to direct his gaze to the man's ear in order to not laugh. He has no idea what's going on, but at the moment he feels equal parts entertained and disgusted.

"It gives me great pleasure to be the one standing beside the boy, the man I see as a son, and to make this announcement." He turns fully to Luhan and the forced smile transforms, the twist of President Kim's lips more reminiscent of the sadistic grin he often graces Luhan with when he's about to announce something he knows will hurt Luhan.

“Nessen’s board of directors and I have finally voted to give you the proper honor you deserve." He turns back to the other guests. "I would like to formally introduce you all to the new Executive Director of Nessen Entertainment."

Luhan gasps, stepping back just as President Kim turns towards him. His instincts are telling him to flee, but before he can truly decide what to do, President Kim has turned to him.

"Congratulations," he says, beckoning Luhan over to stand in front of the podium. Luhan can spot the reporters as he gazes out towards the crowd, but he speaks his thanks and half-hearted promises to the crowd as they cheer for him, clapping rigorously to his words.

President Kim excuses them, and with the hand still on Luhan's shoulder he leads them down the stage, and away from curious eyes, Minseok trailing behind the pair.

"Did you like my present boy," President Kim asks. They're in a dim narrowed corridor, and the older man has finally let go of Luhan in order to cross his arms over his chest.

"I don't understand it," Luhan admits. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why," President Kim repeats. "Are you so stupid to believe I took you in to be a pathetic model for the rest of your days?" He frowns then, stepping closer to Luhan, his voice lowering. "Have things started to click yet, child? Do well and I officially declare to the public your existence as my heir. Screw up and make me lose face," he pauses, head turning to gaze at Minseok, "you will risk more than my wrath."

The threat is whispered, but Luhan hears it and he swallows the growing lump of fear before it can properly lodge itself in his throat. "Why me," he asks.

"Why not," President Kim asks, the wicked smile on his lips stretching wider. "I'm sure that sad excuse of a rebel you called a father would have loved to see this day. From the slums to the heir of one of the biggest companies in this country." He beckons Minseok closer with a simple gesture of his hand and turns back to Luhan patting down the model's suit jacket as if to remove invisible dust. "To think, you could have spent your life a glorified Imperfect, and now we've almost completely removed that disgusting Imperfect taint from you."

"Come along Minseok," President Kim commands, heading back towards the party. "Come to my office first thing Monday morning, and do try to stay out of trouble," he calls over his shoulder to Luhan.

Luhan remains in the same spot even after President Kim and Minseok has left. He feels like nothing more a high-class joke. Every second he thinks back to being on that stage he wonders just how many people were laughing at his expense. The pauper boy, the orphaned child taken from the city‘s slums and a life destined for the Red Light. He was like a fairy tale come to life.

The soft squeak of shoes against the polished floor breaks him from his thoughts, and he turns to watch Kyungsoo and Yixing approach him. "You knew," he accuses, when they are both within earshot.

"I heard rumors," Kyungsoo admits. "I didn't want to get you worked up without anything confirmed."

"I figured it would happen eventually," Yixing says. He throws an arm around Luhan's shoulders in a show of support as Kyungsoo leans against the wall across from them. "These families don't do anything out of the goodness of their own hearts. I figured it was only a matter of time before you were named heir."

"I wish someone would have told me," Luhan mutters. If Luhan thinks about it, becoming heir to Nessen wasn't as farfetched as being adopted by the company's founder, and was the natural order of things unless of course an illegitimate child decided to finally make an appearance.

"What would have changed," Kyungsoo asks.

"I could have left," Luhan replies. He could have fled the city before he became trapped. "I used to think about it a lot, running away from this life."

"Why didn't you," Yixing asks, turning his head and stepping closer to Luhan.

"The good of being here always seemed to outweigh the bad," Luhan admits.

"Isn't it still the same," Yixing asks with a raised eyebrow. "You get a company to own in the future, your apartment, and all the fame you could ever desire."

Luhan leans into Yixing, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Yixing wouldn't understand, he was born into this world, he could never see it as the pretty prison it was for Luhan. He was trapped in a world he could never feel at home in, left prisoner to President Kim's desires and whims without any choices of his own.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

Luhan blinks his bleary eyes open. The sound of his apartment door opening and closing, drags him out of the clutches of sleep. For the briefest moment he finds himself overcome with the rush of relief at having escaped the assault of nightmares he knew were waiting for him when he closed his eyes.

He turns his head to his bedroom door just as it's pushed open, and Minseok slips into the room, a silver of light trailing in behind him. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, his eyes narrowed and searching the way they usually were when Luhan woke the morning after a nightmare.

Luhan lips stretch into a lazy smile as he gazes at the secretary. The rage, full and alcohol driven, transforms within him. It's still there, shameful and all-consuming, but there's more with it, more feelings amplified by the churning whiskey in his gut, yet he can’t help but grin. Still dressed in his wrinkled suit, staring at the District Eight man that he's fallen for, Luhan's lips tug into a mocking little smile of self-depreciation.

“He said he was planning something big, but I had no idea it was this, otherwise I would have warned you,” Minseok tells him after a moment of just looking over the model.

A chuckle leaves the dry confines of his throat, rough and sounding off to his very own ears. "You act like I've been given a death sentence. Haven't you heard? I'm the new Executive Director of Nessen and may end up being the next president if I don’t screw up. So many people would give up everything for it. Wouldn't you? If he had brought you on that stage tonight would you have accepted it?"

Minseok moves forward, until he's sitting on the bed, fingers reaching out to play with Luhan's fringe. "I would," Minseok says, his eyes still trained on Luhan's as he whispers his confirmation.

Luhan closes his eyes, feeling nauseated as he breathes in a shuddering breath. He doesn't want to open his eyes again, to stare into Minseok's irises. The concern makes him angrier and the curiosity, subtle but still there, makes him feel physically ill. "Of course you would. Only an idiot would want to run away from it."

Minseok doesn't speak right away, his hands continue to play with Luhan's hair, brushing it off his forehead, then combing gentle fingers through the tufts of messy locks. "I don't think so. President Kim isn't exactly an easy man to deal with, I can only imagine what an heir of his will suffer."

"Yet if you could, you'd trade places with me," Luhan asks, finally opening his eyes again.

"Yes," Minseok says, "and no. If I've lived your life exactly like you with all the same circumstances, I think I probably wouldn't want to be President Kim's heir either, and if you've lived a life like mine, you'd probably understand why that would be a gift."

"I understand it," Luhan replies, but understanding it, doesn't make him feel better.

"Will you sit up for me," Minseok asks a moment later, after just sitting in thoughtful silence. Luhan gives him a questioning look, but does as he's asked, pushing himself up and throwing his legs over the side of his bed. Minseok stands and begins helping him out of his suit, first the jacket is removed, then he takes each wrist in his hand removing the cufflinks and depositing them on the nightstand. Luhan watches Minseok in silence, he's still dressed in his own suit, jacket and all, but the care and quiet concentration has Luhan relaxing at his every touch. Each thought of President Kim and his new job easing out of his mind.

Once he's dressed in only his slacks, Luhan grabs a hold of the lapels of Minseok's jacket, tugging until Minseok lips meet his own, and then he's pulling the jacket off with just as much care as Minseok had done his own, then the tie. Minseok pulls away, and Luhan watches as deft fingers remove the silver cufflinks at his wrists. Luhan pulls his tucked shirt free, then watches as Minseok leisurely works each button open, the near primal urge to kiss every inch of exposed skin surfacing within him once more.

Once the white shirt hits the floor, Luhan's pulling Minseok closer by the buckle of his belt, inebriated fingers fumbling in their haste, but a moment later he's tossing the belt out of sight. Fingers trace over the button of the pants and slide down cupping the bulge of Minseok's erection, feeling the subtle twitch in his palm. He drags his hand back up, removing the last of Minseok's clothing, and kisses down his torso, gliding his lips along prominent hipbones and lower, nuzzling against Minseok’s erection.

Luhan drags his lips from the base of Minseok's cock to the red flushed tip, where he pauses long enough to look up, tongue coming out to run along the slit, feeling the way Minseok shivers underneath his touch. He keeps his gaze on Minseok, staring into dark lust filled eyes, parting his lips wider. His tongue tracing the underside of Minseok's cock as he draws him into his mouth. His right hand is wrapped around the base, twisting and tugging as Luhan bobs his head, quick and determined.

Minseok buries his fingers in the strands of Luhan's hair, tousling the locks he'd spent the time fixing moments ago. His every moan and sigh, low and soft, sounds amplified in the silent bedroom as Luhan draws him closer to climax.

He swallows around him one last time just as Minseok releases in his mouth, a moan leaving the depths of his throat.

Luhan looks up then, the desire still flaring up within him. One of Minseok’s hands drops from his hair, his fingertips trailing down his nape and under his jaw, lifting his face just enough to cover Luhan’s lips with his own. Once Minseok is settled above him he begins leaving slow open-mouthed kisses down the length of Luhan’s body, stripping him of his pants and underwear.

Minseok takes his time, slow and tantalizing to Luhan’s fast and brusque manner. Minseok had called it savoring the moment when the slow drag of his cock inside him was driving Luhan towards the edge of insanity. Savoring, was what he was doing now, kissing and sucking marks into Luhan’s skin, coming closer and closer to the hard flesh of Luhan’s erection, but never managing to touch it. He was drawing noises from Luhan that he had never made with any other lover, noises that Luhan had no idea he could make before Minseok.

When the warm heat of Minseok’s mouth encloses him, it is heaven and hell at the same time, and a deep whine slips pass his lips, his hips jerking up out of pure need. And then, when the first finger breaches him, Luhan knows he won’t last long, and falls boneless against the bed. Minseok and his ministrations fill the depths of his mind, and Luhan focuses on pleasure and Minseok, Minseok and pleasure. Each thought revolving and infusing in Luhan’s mind until he’s coming with a wanton cry of Minseok’s name.

** **** **

Luhan finds himself awake before Minseok for the first time since the secretary has moved in. The room is dark, window shades cloaking any sign of light just like Luhan set them the night before. He had wanted to wallow in his misery, to block out the bright city lights and be alone in the darkness of his room, free from distractions.

 Once in his living room Luhan walks over to the tall window. The sun is still missing from the cobalt sky, but the artificial city lights bathe the apartment in a dull patronizing glow.

He's in the digital billboard across from his apartment wearing his suit from last night. The moving clip flickers from him walking up the red carpeted steps of the Grand Capital Hall, to him speaking silent words with flushed cheeks and a fake smile. The words underneath glide across the screen as each moment is replayed over and over. _Nessen’s New Executive Director, Approved by Great Ruler_.

In what feels like only seconds later, arms slide around his waist as Minseok rests against his shoulder peering at the billboard.

"How long have you been standing here," Minseok asks. In the time since Luhan's been staring at himself, lost deep in his thoughts, the sky has changed. The once inky blue has melted into a cloudy array of oranges across the sky as the sun glowers down at the world.

"I don't know," he admits, turning in Minseok's embrace. "I want to take you somewhere today."

"Where," Minseok asks with quirked eyebrows.

"Someplace important to me," Luhan says. "After last night, I'm sure you have questions and I want to answer them there."

"Okay," Minseok says, but then hesitates. "Do you think it will be okay to go out there? I'm sure the whole world is waiting to see candid pictures of... him." He juts his chin out gesturing towards the billboard. Luhan breaks from Minseok's hold, walking till his nose nearly touches the glass. His stomach lurches as he gazes from the billboard to the empty street below his apartment.

"We can go after breakfast. The world can wait until we return."

** **** **

Luhan closes his eyes, drawing in a deep steady breath and releases it into the cool air seconds later. He battles away images of the sun reflecting against clear glass windows and brilliant white houses.

Minseok hand wraps around his bicep, and Luhan blinks his eyes open. In the light of day the house doesn't just look dead. From the empty windows to its stripped paint, and exposed foundation, it looks so much more than dead. It looks decaying. It looks pained, like it's crying out to be loved once more, to have someone take care of it again.

He closes his eyes again, and counts down from five, feeling ridiculous at projecting feelings into a house.

He turns to Minseok when he reaches zero, dragging his eyes away from the still lonely house to focus on the secretary. Minseok is staring back at him, worry shining bright in his eyes. Luhan smiles in reassurance, and lifts his hand, turning his palm up towards the sky to grasp the hand that has moved from his bicep.

"Let's go," he says, lightly pulling Minseok along.

It's empty inside the house, thick layers of dust and dirt cover the floor and walls. The furniture is missing, and Luhan figures that if it wasn’t thrown out by city officials, it was probably stole to be resold in the Red Light. A misplaced type of jealousy tries to swell up inside him, but he pushes it away. He ignores every pathetic emotion, every irrelevant thought, and every gut-wrenching memory that tries to claw its way into his mind.

He wills it all away, imagining his mind as the sterile white of President Kim's office, cold and bare.

The kitchen is just as barren and empty as the rest of the house. A cool breeze filters in through the missing window, and a layer of dust and dirt cover everything from the yellow walls to the electric stove.

Luhan sits on the floor, his legs stretch out in front of him and back rests against the wall. It is the exact location where the wooden rectangular table used to be, pushed against the wall with a pair of chairs on either side.

Minseok gives him a curious look, and Luhan gazes back up at him, tugging gently at his hand. The secretary doesn't sit right away, he looks at Luhan's legs clad in expensive jeans to the dusty floor, but he sits before Luhan can suggest an alternative.

With a fleeting glance around the room, Luhan settles his gaze on the empty window. "I used to live here," he begins, not sure where to start. He pauses, closing his eyes and sighing. "I don't know how to go about this." He opens his eyes and turns towards Minseok, "I don't know where to begin. What did you hear? I don't want to bore you with some long tale."

"It's all important to me," Minseok replies. When Luhan's lips press into a frown he continues speaking. "How about I tell you what I've heard from my father?" Luhan's frown deepens but he nods.

"Remember when my dad asked if your surname was Lu," Minseok asks, when Luhan nods his head once more he continues. He told me about a man I'm assuming is your biological father. They didn't know each other, but my dad had heard about him."

"My father wasn't a rebel," Luhan states, President Kim's accusation still ringing in his ears. His father had fought in the war, had been a soldier at 16, and had even lost his wife for the benefit and wellbeing of the country.

"He wasn't," Minseok agrees. "He helped Imperfects and a few rebels according to my dad." Minseok pauses again, squeezing Luhan's hand in his own, as Luhan comes to terms with those words. He was a sympathizer according to Minseok, an accomplice to the crimes of Imperfects and rebels, and just as bad as a rebel according to the government. He didn’t have a tattoo and he hadn't been spewing Red Devils rhetoric from what Luhan could remember, but helping other Imperfects, helping rebels was just as bad. To doubt the government was to sin against it.

"You're wrong," Luhan accuses even as memories began to flutter behind his eyes. Aunts and uncles he'd meet once and never see again, the co-workers that would spend days with them, and all the whispered and terrified conversations in the same language Minseok and Tao spoke.

The pressure of Minseok's hand is beginning to feel more constricting than comforting despite the way Minseok's thumb rubs circles into his knuckles. He wants to pull his hand out of the other male's grasp like a spiteful child.

"Maybe," Minseok concedes. "I wouldn't know."

"He wasn't a sympathizer nor was he a rebel. My father worked in one of the production factories in District Nine, when I was at school and at night." Luhan pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts and giving Minseok time to say something, when he doesn't say anything, Luhan continues.

"My mother died in childbirth and so my father was forced to raise me alone off of a meager wage and the monthly stipend the government gave us for participating in the experiments. We lived here from the day I was born until I turned 11. We found out my father had an Imperfect disease two weeks after my birthday, and by the start of August he was dead. Before my mother's death he used to take pictures, photography. After her death he smoked more and daydreamed a lot."

Another pause and Luhan's pushing down the familiar ache of resentment, closing his eyes as he's attacked by another onslaught of memories.

"How did you meet President Kim," Minseok asks softly.

"He drove up in the shiniest car I've ever seen," Luhan says, feeling the chill of detachment as his mind helpfully shoves the memory into his senses. "I was told I was getting a new father. When he appeared, despite the grief, I thought he was kind of cool, till he glared down at me and told me to 'hurry and get in the car because he didn't want to waste another second in the slums.' I hated him from that moment on, and the first night l spent in his home I cried for hours." He doesn't add how he also feared President Kim from that moment on, nor does he mention the training President Kim made him undergo in order to be a better Perfect.

When Minseok presses to know more Luhan takes his time alternating between the frivolous tales of his childhood, such as how Luhan had wanted to be a photographer when he grew up after learning of his father's love of photography.

The stories of life with President Kim are more guarded. Luhan tells Minseok of living in the large District One house, and the harshness that President Kim treated him with, but he keeps quiet about most of the things he faced living with the older man.

He explains that he wasn't allowed to use the Kim surname, not because President Kim wanted to protect him from the public, but because he hadn't proven himself worthy enough to be publicly declared heir. The things he doesn't tell, he promises to do so at a later date. He doesn't want to overwhelm Minseok and doesn't think he can say it all without his hold on his emotions breaking.

Afterwards when there's nothing left to say, Luhan takes him on a tour of the house.  His impenetrable wall of detachment blocks the emotions from seeping through as he shows Minseok each dust riddled room, and the things hidden under floorboards.

** **** **

"I'm curious," Minseok announces as they stand on the porch of the house, the afternoon sun glaring down at them. He turns his head to Luhan, dark eyebrows knitting together in thought.

"Why was it you," Minseok asks. "Did President Kim know your father?"

"No," Luhan says with a shake of his head. His lips once more falling into a frown as he recalls President Kim's words from the previous night. "I don't know," he admits. Minseok's expression reflects his own and instead of saying his theory, Luhan can tell he has a theory, he shakes his head a little.

"I'm sure it was just a coincidence then," Minseok says. Luhan knows he's lying, but he smiles, grateful for it at the moment.

There's a part of Luhan, perhaps the still childish part, that wants to keep the two people separate. It's easier for him to imagine his life in two separate periods. The first being when he was loved and happy, and the second being when he was raised by President Kim. He doesn't want President Kim overlapping into the first, doesn't want to imagine that his interest in Luhan might have been a personal vendetta instead of just the need to secure an heir.

"Before your parents left, were you happy?" Luhan tries to imagine life if his father was still living, and he wonders if he would still be that happy kid of his childhood if he had grown up to work in one of the factories.

Minseok moves closer to him, left hand reaching for Luhan's. "I was, but I was also worried and fearful. I was worried that they'd get sicker, or that they'd be taken away while I was at work. I was happy though. After what you've told me, you would have been happy to. My parents had scars as well, but they cared about me, and as I got older I understood them better, and respected them for continuing on. I think even if your father had smoked too much, or daydreamed too much, even if he had been a sympathizer, you would have still loved him."

"I don't think you're wrong," Luhan admits with a dry laugh. "I would choose all of those things over a dead father."

He releases the emotions he'd kept at bay, blinking rapidly as he stares into the distance. His eyes hurt, but the tears never come. There's just a weak ache somewhere in his chest.

"This was my final goodbye," Luhan says. "I know it's rather pathetic, but on Monday morning things will be different and I needed to finally stop thinking of what could have been. I won't be that District Eight boy anymore, so I wanted to say goodbye to this house, to my father, and to my old self."

"It's not pathetic," Minseok says. He steps closer, letting go of Luhan's hand and wrapping his arms around his waist. He rests his head on Luhan's shoulder, lips pulled into an understanding smile. "I'm happy I'm the one that got to go with you today. Thank you."

"Thank you for understanding me," Luhan says in return. He kisses the corner of Minseok's mouth and finally smiles. "Thank you."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

The first level of Nessen’s underground parking garage is said to be where the important people park. Luhan had never paid much attention to its importance, to him a parking garage was just a parking garage regardless of what level meant what. It was the workers that cared about the superficial acknowledgment that came with the parking space. Each parking space held a title of prominence branded across the concrete in white, from minor directors within the company up to the President, there was a space for everyone.

Today as he parks his car in the spot designated for the executive director, the initial indifference to the first level of the parking garage morphs into something akin to hatred. He feels a resentment swell into him, directed at the parking space, and the garage for what they now represent to him. He doesn’t feel the prestige that the company workers associate with the parking spaces on the first level. Instead, he’s reminded of President Kim’s smug face the night he announced Luhan’s new position at the company, and that makes him loathe the parking space even more.

President Kim wanted him to be reminded of that night every time he parked in his new parking space, was referred to by his new title, and sat in his new office, and yet here he was playing into President Kim’s hand once more.

"You'll do fine," Minseok tells him in encouragement, as if he was reading Luhan’s thoughts at the moment.

"Of course I will," Luhan replies, "President Kim will need to die or at least be heavily sedated for me to actually do any work."

He supposes that could probably go in the positive things he should focus on. It had been Minseok’s idea the night before, focus strictly on the positive side of things instead of all the negative. So far, in positive things to look forward to he only had Minseok: going to work with Minseok, lunches with Minseok, Minseok and more Minseok. The negative consisted of everything else.

"No," Minseok says, "that's not what I meant. You'll do fine against him today.”

Luhan’s lips quirk into a humorless smile at the statement, over the weekend they had also talked about that. President Kim wanted him to become a better Perfect and after shedding the shadow of the District Eight boy he used to be, he was determined to give President Kim just what he requested. That meant he couldn’t fear him, or at least for the moment he couldn’t allow President Kim to notice that fear.

“At least one of us believes in me,” Luhan replies. He sits up suddenly, eyes narrowing as he gazes into his rearview mirror. “Minseok,” he calls out gently, just as the secretary was going to speak.

“Hmm,” Minseok replies with a disappointed frown, glaring in a half-hearted manner in Luhan’s direction.

“I’m pretty sure there’s a photographer taking pictures of us at the moment,” Luhan states, watching as Minseok’s look of disappointed shifts into one of confusion.

Minseok moves in his seat, turning his head and scanning the garage for any signs of reporters and photographers. “How can you tell,” he asks. “Are they hiding?”

“Possibly,” Luhan says with a shrug, “I saw movement near the truck behind us. I could just be paranoid though.” The four door truck parked behind them is a shiny black with deeply tinted windows, if there was anyone in the truck neither Luhan nor Minseok could tell.

Minseok grimaces, but nods. “At least we won’t be ambushed this time.”

Luhan feels a sting of pity, as he recalls what had taken place only 30 minutes earlier. Paparazzi, grouped together in a ball of flashing cameras and blended voices, had awaited them the moment they had stepped out of their apartment building.

Minseok, not used to that type of confrontation, had frozen wide-eyed and bewildered. And so Luhan, the seasoned model and former tabloid king, had to push his way through the crowd which refused to move all the while dragging Minseok along.

“You’re right,” Luhan says. “We should probably go in before we do get ambushed.” Minseok nods his head stiffly and Luhan leans across the seats, bringing him into a quick kiss, in part to calm his aflame nerves, and to give any snooping reporters something to write about that wasn’t his quick ascension to the top of Nessen.

** **** **

Luhan’s office is on the floor below President Kim’s. While President Kim’s office is the only thing at the end of a long corridor, there are tons of doors leading to unknown places, and a distinct soft hum of life that reveals to Luhan that he will be sharing the floor with more than just his secretary.

The door to his office is at the end of the corridor, and made of a deeply tinted glass, its black framing standing out against the plain white of the wall. Beside the door is a sign. "EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR" is printed in large uppercase bold. Below that in crisp unassuming lettering reads: Luhan Kim. It’s perfect and mocking even more so than the stupid parking space.

The dull grey carpet from the corridor follows him inside the office, as well as the pristine pure white of the walls. In the middle of the room sits a black desk that resembles Minseok’s. A large computer monitor takes up a quarter of it, as well as a telephone, and other standard company items. There is nothing of personal significance, so Luhan figures that the new secretary has yet to arrive, if not then they were even more reserve than Minseok.

There are two large windows on each side of the room, one to watch the sun rise and one to watch it set, and unmarked glass doors on either side of the desk. Luhan ventures to the room on his left, only to find out that it’s a minor conference room. Black chairs line the circumference of an oval table, and across from the door a black screen rests against the wall.

After he leaves that room, he goes to the door that was to his right. He had imagined a crisp all white room, a room that was an utter replica of President Kim’s office. This office is nothing like that. Dark wooden paneling line the floor of the office, beside the entrance a long white sofa with black lining rests against the wall. There is a large glass window to his right which shows a spectacular view of the city even from the furthest point in the office. His desk is made of a half black glass, and half dark painted wood, which he finds himself, drawn to. Similar to the main office there are also two doors within the room. The one closest to his desk opens to a closet, while the second door reveals a personal bathroom.

** **** **

Luhan spends the first twenty minutes within his new office, flicking switches and pressing buttons, watching what they do and reveal. In that time he learns there’s a hidden shower in his bathroom, a window behind his desk, and a television across from his desk hiding in the wall near the entrance. It’s like moving into his apartment all over again, having a space where he felt comfortable, where he could touch everything and not worry about being reprimanded, and although he still wasn’t fond of his new job, or how he acquired the office, he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it.

A knock at his door halts him in his search of hidden things, and Luhan finds himself calling out a muttered “come in.” Less than a second later, the door is pushed open and in walks Minseok, causing Luhan to relax in his seat.

“How do you like the office,” Minseok asks him, stopping just in front of Luhan’s desk, hands resting in the back pocket of his slacks.

“I hate how much I like it,” Luhan admits.

“Well I was in charge of choosing the interior designer, and I also had final say on this, so it’s good to know you like it,” Minseok replies.

“That explains it then,” Luhan says with a nod of his head. “If President Kim had any say in this, it would probably look exactly like his own office.” He stands then and rounds the desk, wrapping his arms around Minseok’s waist. “I like it even more now.”

Minseok smiles at him, but pulls away a moment later. “Nam Joohyun, your new secretary is waiting to meet you.” He disappears out of the door without a backwards glance, and Luhan frowns but follows after him.

Joohyun is a tall woman with short brunette hair. She’s dressed in a white blouse and black slacks, and she’s in the middle of organizing her desk to her liking when Luhan exits his office.

"Hello," She bows in respect, hands clasped in front of her. "I'm Nam Joohyun, Mr. Kim. It's nice to meet you."

Luhan finds himself tilting his head and turning towards Minseok. The secretary shakes his head and leans in closer to speak to him. “She was referring to you,” he explains in a whisper, causing Luhan’s grimace to resurface.

"Joohyun,” he calls out to the woman, watching as she finally brings herself out of the bow. “At the moment there is only one rule that I have for you."

"Yes, Mr. Kim," she replies, looking up to him with a mixture of curiosity and worry as Luhan flinches at the use of the surname once more.

"Please refrain from referring to me as… that name in my presence. My name is Luhan, the name Kim is only formality that I'd rather not have attached to my person when I can control it."

"Sorry...Sir," she replies, giving him a sheepish grin. "I'll keep that in mind from now on."

"Thank you," he says in return, offering up a small smile of gratitude. "I'll leave you to finish getting settled while I go meet with our president."

"Thank you as well sir," she says with a more confident smile. "Have a nice day, and good luck."

"Did you choose her as well," Luhan asks when they're outside of the office, walking along the corridor towards the elevator.

"She doesn't seem bad, does she," Minseok asks, "besides being a bit nervous at the moment. When President Kim told me to choose an assistant for you, I figured it was best to choose someone that wouldn’t be star struck if they were in the same room as you, but also someone that wasn’t too intimidated by President Kim.”

“President Kim told you she’d be my assistant,” Luhan asks.

“Yes,” Minseok replies with a nod of his head. “I figured that she’d be helping you organize your modeling jobs since Kyungsoo needs to manage three of you.”

Luhan doesn’t bother thinking about what he would have done if Minseok had found out and told him of his so-called promotion earlier than intended. President Kim would have never allowed his surprise to be ruined, and Luhan would probably still be inside the office elevator today, seconds away from seeing the older man.

“I think she’s nice,” Luhan admits. “I’ll have to wait to see how she handles things though.”

** **** **

President Kim sits behind his desk as usual, a look of exasperated boredom on his features as he directs Luhan to take a seat with just his eyes.

"How do you like your office," the older man asks. Luhan's mind swiftly reminds him of the sign outside of his office presenting him as Luhan Kim, but he smiles a tight smile.

"I actually like it," Luhan says. "Thank you." the added words of gratitude, sound forced to his ears, but President Kim doesn't comment on it.

"Do you know what it means to be executive director of this company," President Kim asks.

"That I'm forced to work under you," Luhan retorts. President Kim looks up at him at that, giving him a sharp glare. Luhan fights instinct down to return his gaze with as much of an innocent look as possible instead.

"As executive director of this company, you are in charge of all internal affairs. Of course there are people that have different tasks delegated to them under their job title, but it is up to you to make sure they are doing their jobs correctly and insuring that things continue to run smoothly. As president of this company I do oversee you, but I also work alongside the board of directors. My main goal right now is to make sure that you or anyone else refrains from destroy the company I created."

"So I will actually be doing work," Luhan asks with surprise.

"You will shadow me today," President Kim explains. "You will personally meet the board of directors in a few minutes, and tomorrow you will meet with the heads of the other departments since you will be directly in charge of them. You will also be in charge of minor things I deem suitable for your inexperience. Things that won't hurt the company if you prove too incompetent to even do those correctly."

Used to the president harsh words, Luhan nods his head dully, his mind replaying what he and Minseok had decided that previous weekend. He wouldn't allow President Kim to see his fear anymore, he wasn't weak anymore. He had power now and influence, and more importantly he knew what he was doing now. He was an adult now and not a child regardless of President Kim’s fondness for that name.

** **** **

Luhan meets his first department head on the second day. The man enters the room with a hurried introduction, and jumps right into his proposal. Luhan listens to the proposal in earnest, paying attention to every bit of the man’s detailed plan as he goes over goals and budget plans, and Luhan lets him go with a promise to look over it and check their budget.

Luhan also spends most of the morning getting to know Joohyun. Despite her nervousness on the first day, he quickly learns just how smart and quick-witted she is, and Luhan decides he has found one more comfort to make his new career bearable.

A half an hour before noon, Luhan finds himself bored. He had already requested budget information from the person in charge of finance, and Luhan and Joohyun had toured the company meeting with department heads and being told what they were in charge of.  He was beginning to feel restless, and no amount of pressing buttons to watch things reveal themselves and go back into hiding was going to remedy it.

“Sir, Do Kyungsoo is waiting to speak to you on line 1,” Joohyun’s voice sounds through the intercom, breaking him out of his boredom inflicted daze. Having not used the built-in phone system yet, Luhan looks at the various buttons on his desk, pressing the one that was suddenly glowing red.

“Kyungsoo,” he calls out into the air, uncertain.

“Luhan, you need to get to Sehun and Kai’s apartment now,” Kyungsoo states. It comes out like a command, short and brusque, the way Kyungsoo usually speaks when he’s livid. Luhan had only experienced livid Kyungsoo twice before, while his former manager was often angered and upset by his actions, he was still able to keep his emotions under control. A livid Kyungsoo, a Kyungsoo so consumed by his anger and emotions, lacked that control.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he replies, he can already guess what has Kyungsoo upset, and he’d rather not prolong that anger. If he’s aware of Luhan’s involvement with the matter, then making him wait would only drive the younger male deeper into rage.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Luhan's not able to leave his office until twenty minutes after noon. The traffic into District Four isn’t light even though the day is still early. Despite that, Luhan makes it to the younger models’ apartment in record time.

It’s Kyungsoo that opens the apartment door. His usually large brown eyes are narrowed in fury as he steps aside to allow Luhan entry.

"What's going on," Luhan asks, walking into the living room. Instead of a guilty Sehun, Jongin sits in the middle of his sofa, head resting in the palms of his hands. Kyungsoo stalks around him, and pulls a white sheet of paper from beside the younger model. He thrusts it into Luhan's direction without a single word.

With a frown, Luhan takes the paper and begins to read it. "What..." he starts off saying only to cut himself off. He reads the paper which reveals to be a letter, going over it once and then twice, checking it over again and again to make sure he's reading the words correctly.

"What is this," he asks slowly.  His mouth has gone dry, and so the words tumble from his lips as if they’re being whispered.

"You've read it haven't you," Kyungsoo retorts, his exasperation causing him to scoff at Luhan.

"Have you been able to contact him since finding this," Luhan asks, choosing to ignore Kyungsoo’s tone of irritation. "When did you find this?"

Jongin huffs a shuddering breath and lifts his head. His lips are curled down, and his dark eyes lack their usual brilliance as he gazes at Luhan. "I found it this morning. I've tried contacting him, but he wouldn't answer, and so I called you but you weren't answering either. Kyungsoo was the only one that answered."

There's a hint of accusation to his voice, and Luhan isn't ignorant to the way he dropped the ancient honorific from Kyungsoo's name.

"I left my phone in my car," Luhan mumbles, attempting to excuse himself. He lifts his gaze to Kyungsoo, who has started to glare at nothing. “Have you talked to Suho or Lay recently?"

Kyungsoo's eyes widen at the question, or possibly at Luhan’s unconscious use of their codenames. "No," he says. "I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be consulting with CNS when Sehun has just run away with an Imperfect," he bites out.

"No," Luhan says in reply, breathing in deep and releasing the air. He understands the anger now, and so he does his best to brush away his own feelings of annoyance. "What I meant was that the pair has said for the time being entering, and even leaving the city has become heavily regulated. Depending on how much thought was put into his plan, there’s a chance they could still be in the city.”

"So what are we supposed to do," Kyungsoo asks, "If Sehun still has his cellphone, he's refusing to answer it, and I doubt running around the city calling his name is going to do much besides cause a scandal.”

"We need to check the Red Light," Luhan says, and then glances around the room. "I'll check the Red Light."

"You can't check the entirety of the Red Light alone," Kyungsoo says in return.

"I don't have much of a choice unless you want to tag along," Luhan replies. "I actually know what I'm doing there, and besides someone should stay here and continue calling him. He might have a moment of doubt and try to contact one of us."

"What happens if we don't find him," Jongin asks.

Luhan swallows thickly, as he glances back at the younger male. Jongin eyes still have that trained blankness, but Luhan can see a flicker of emotion deep within them.

"We hope they make it to a compound safely," he answers.

** **** **

The first thing Luhan does when he gets back in his car is check his missed calls. He'd hate himself if Sehun had tried to contact him but he had missed it due to carelessness. There are tons from Jongin and Kyungsoo, but none from Sehun. The second thing he does is call Joohyun, he tells her he will be out of the office for longer than planned thanks to an emergency, and if President Kim contacts her looking for him, he tells her to feign ignorance.

The Red Light is untrusting. The few people that he comes across glares at him with contemptuous eyes, or shy away and pretend not to understand him. It's the result of being ransacked and mistreated by District police, and CNS officers. There's a distrust of all Perfects in the air, and the last thing everyone seems unwilling to do is sell out one of their own to the Perfect appearing on billboards as approved by the Great Ruler.

Thirty minutes later and after most of his money is gone, Luhan finally finds someone willing to give him answers. A balding man, with a moustache infused with grey hairs, and a long pale scar along the right side of his neck, smiles a conspiring grin at him.

"You want to leave the city with an Imperfect, do you?"

His voice is gruff and slurred as if his tongue is too big for his mouth, and although he has a natural low tone, his question sounds like a shout in the silent air.

"Yes," Luhan lies. "Hypothetically," he adds as an afterthought. They're standing behind a closed bar on a near empty street, but Luhan knows it's best not to let his guard down. If this man doesn't kill him in the name of the Red Devils, he's sure President Kim would if word got out that he was looking to smuggle Imperfects out of the city.

"And how can I be sure you're not, ‘hypothetically’ working for the government," the man retorts, spitting the word Luhan used out with a frown.

"You don't have to give me names," Luhan replies. "I gave you the money, the least you could do is give me some answers."

"Is your friend marked," the man asks after a moment of silence. When he notices Luhan's furrowed eyebrows, he huffs a noise of annoyance. "Marked," he repeats tapping at the scar on his neck. "They catch us and tag us like we're damn animals. If your friend's marked and still has it, they'll use it to find and kill you both."

"No," Luhan replies hurriedly, hoping that Tao didn't have a tracker on him.

"Good," the man replies. "Since what happened to the subway, leaving the city has become too much of a hassle for most of us. It'll take a person a few days to get things arranged, but with your money you could probably be gone by tomorrow morning."

"What do I do first," Luhan asks.

"Find someone that can give your friend a mock imprint. There's a lot of people that claim to do it, you'll need someone good."

When he notices the confused look cross Luhan features again he glares at the Perfect. "You know nothing do you," the man retorts, gesturing towards Luhan's right wrist.

"There are people that can do that," Luhan asks, nearly lifting his arm up to examine it. Imprinted in every Perfect‘s wrist was a microscopic chip that held their birth date, birth name, and their identification number. The rumor was the chips were a means to keep track of the first generation of Perfect test subjects before evolving into the country's main identification method.

The man is looking at him with suspicion and Luhan quickly cools his features into a mask of indifference. "Once you've got that, you've got to find a guide. The country is large you know, and the compounds are well hidden, and you'll need an unregistered car."

"Is that all," Luhan asks.

"That's all I'm telling you. You're not as dim as you look, I'm sure you can figure out the rest."

The man departs first, leaving Luhan alone in his thoughts.

If Sehun had known all this, if he had figured out what he needed to do to leave, then he was probably long gone by now. Which meant the logical thing was to give up. There was nothing more he could do if Sehun had left the city unless he decided to follow after him.

He didn't want to give up yet, giving up felt like throwing Sehun to a pack of wolves with a raw steak tied around his neck. He still seemed too young, too inexperienced with the world, too headstrong to think of the consequences of his actions in the long run, but that was the problem with their race.

Each and every one of them were overconfident in their abilities, and the shallow conviction that they were invincible. Luhan didn't see things that way, and he didn't know if it was another First Gen flaw, or if his own overconfident belief in his abilities had been beaten into the single belief that he was only indispensable as long as he was useful. He didn't think others were aware of that. In a greater scale it was the government that decided upon their usefulness when they were created, and if the rumors of Perfect executions were true, then it was the government that controlled their fate when they went against their creators. No matter how Luhan tried to see things, fighting against such an immense force sounded like a death wish.

** **** **

"Sehun, you haven't left have you? Look, I'm sure we can figure out another way, an alternative plan to this if we just tried. Call me, I'll help. I want to help you and… Tao. I promised I'd do what I could to help, so let me make good on that promise."

** **** **

Kyungsoo opens the door at the third rough knock, and Luhan pushes his way into the apartment. "We need to track his phone," Luhan states, walking pass the younger male as he heads towards Sehun's bedroom. "Or find a way to gain access to his bank account, see if he withdrew any large sums of money.

In Sehun's room Luhan opens drawers and books, looking for something that could show him Sehun had put thought into his plan. "You know we can't do that without coming off suspicious," Kyungsoo replies.

"So what do we do," Luhan asks, pulling down more and more books. “If he hasn’t thought through this then…” he trails off, shaking head to rid himself of his negative thoughts.

"We do as you said," Kyungsoo says. "If he hasn't contacted us and you can't find him, then it's time for us to believe he has left, and hope that he stays safe and has thought through this properly." Luhan watches as Kyungsoo exits the room and slumps in Sehun's desk chair, head in his hands.

"Luhan-hyung," he hears, but refuses to lift his head.

"Is this my fault," Luhan asks. "Is he doing this to prove that he isn't some stupid child or something?" He tries to laugh at the situation but all that leaves his throat is a grunt. "Maybe I should have let him sleep with me once, like everyone else."

"Unless you would have slept with him the very night he met Tao, I doubt that would have done much besides distancing him from you," Kai says, and Luhan ignores how the idea makes him regret not sleeping with Sehun even more. Maybe, if he hadn’t been so close to Sehun he could give up now.

"You know we watched the execution together,” Jongin says, “all three of us. It was the first execution we'd seen. We never really cared to watch the other cities,' but this was our city and we had been too young to watch the previous ones the capital hosted. I think that spooked him, and he decided to take his chances outside of the city rather than sit around waiting for his turn at the gallows."

"We could have found an alternative solution," Luhan says finally lifting his head to look at Jongin.

"Maybe," Jongin replies. "I'm angry at the way he left. I won't ever forgive him for that, and if he does join the Red Devils I don't think I can forgive that either, but I do understand his worry. I don't blame him for leaving, and I don't blame Tao for going along with his plan either. I think if I was in either one of their shoes I would have done the same."

Luhan watches as Jongin slides to the floor, head lifting up to gaze along the room. "You weren't wrong when you treated us like kids. I was so ignorant to things at the time, I didn't think things like Imperfects, the government, and the Red Devils had anything to do with me. I think that's also why Sehun got so involved so fast. I think he loves Tao, but I also think he feels guilty. We used to believe that Imperfects were annoying and that they should just get the gene instead of complaining and making things hard on everyone. I used to think that they didn't really have a cause, that they just wanted to make things difficult on Great Ruler, but I get it now."

"I don't," Luhan retorts, and glares into nothing, hating himself for sounding like a spiteful child.

"Sehun's taught me a lot," Jongin says, "about their side. Do you know we use a word, a word that has historically been seen as a negative word to celebrate and talk about the mass killings of Imperfects? The Imperfect Genocide, where we killed hundreds of thousands of Imperfects without any discrimination. I think if their side had done what we did and bragged about it like we do, we'd be a bit _peeved_ as well."

"It was for the greater good," Luhan replies, knowing he’s just repeating what they were taught. The genocide was for the greater good, whatever that meant. “Regardless of the past, it doesn’t justify what they’re doing now.”

Jongin nods his head, "I know that, and Sehun knows that. But, I still understand their side a little better than I did before, and because of that I can understand why Sehun left."

"Then why don't you be the one to tell President Kim" Luhan replies, finally letting the anger he was suppressing get the better of him. "I’m sure he would just love to hear all about why one of his most profitable models has run off with an Imperfect. You know since they're just misunderstood and all, maybe we shouldn't cover it up. You can talk at the PressCon, tell the world why we should all forgive Oh Sehun and his fucking Imperfect."

"LUHAN," Kyungsoo shouts out, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His eyes are narrowed once more into a glare, and his lips are set into a deep frown. That shout is the first show of Kyungsoo’s infamous fury Luhan has seen all day, and instead of feeling regretful at making the younger lose control, Luhan just feels more annoyance.

"You're not my manager anymore Kyungsoo," Luhan says. "You can't yell at me, and you have no right to. You're not the one that needs to appeal to President Kim about this. I don't know what I'm more annoyed by, Sehun deciding to run off, or Sehun running off only after I'm forced to work underneath that monster." He shoves pass Kyungsoo, walking out of the apartment with swift steps.

He doesn’t understand how they’re able to turn him into the villain and martyr at the same time. He has to give up on Sehun, and be the one to tell President Kim. Yet apparently, he needs to hear Sehun’s reasons for running away like it will absolve Sehun of his crimes or make Luhan more inclined to fight for him and his causes. He doesn’t understand why Kyungsoo looks at him as if he planted the idea in Sehun’s head, and then gets upset when Luhan doesn’t want to give up on finding the younger model.

Sehun was the defector, yet Luhan seemed to be the one to hold accountable for his crimes.

** **** **

Luhan has to fight down the urge to scratch at his arms. The rage and frustration crawling just underneath the surface of his skin like imaginary parasites driving him closer to the edge of insanity. He should do it now. He should march into President Kim's office and tell him about Sehun before the press finds out or worse. The sooner he tells him the better, at least that was how it was supposed to go. Luhan wasn’t sure if that could apply to President Kim, his step-father liked to draw his anger out, and the sooner Luhan told him, the worse off it would be for Luhan.

A knock at his window has him jumping in surprise, opening eyes he hadn't even realized he'd closed. To his right, Minseok stands peering into his car window.

"Were you sleeping," Minseok asks him, once he’s sitting down beside Luhan.

"I… don't know," Luhan replies. He glances at the car's radio, but can't seem to recall when he had arrived back at Nessen.

Minseok's frown deepens, his hand reaching up to grab Luhan's shoulder bringing the former model closer to him.

"Are you okay," he asks. "Joohyun said you had to help Kyungsoo with some kind of emergency."

Luhan takes Minseok's hand off of his shoulder, holding onto it instead. "I'm fine," he lies. "It was just a few last minute arrangements we needed to work through."

Tomorrow, he decides. Tomorrow, he'll tell President Kim about Sehun.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hours later and Luhan still can’t get Sehun and Tao’s departure out of his mind. It felt surreal, almost as if tomorrow he’d find out that it was all a joke, or that Sehun had changed his mind and returned.

Minseok is already in bed by the time Luhan makes it to his room, and the former model settles down on the edge of the bed, staring at him in thought.

“What,” Minseok asks. His voice is edged with sleep and Luhan grimaces, a spark of regret igniting within him for disturbing the secretary.

"If I asked you to drop everything and run away with me, would you," Luhan says, asking the question that’s been on his mind since he’d decided to give up on finding Sehun.

"What," Minseok repeats, sitting up in bed and squinting tired eyes as he stares at Luhan under the dim light of the bedroom.

"If I asked you to run away with me, would you," Luhan asks, repeating the question as he moves closer to Minseok. "If I said let's leave tomorrow, could you drop everything and go with me?"

"Where would we go," Minseok asks, tilting his head in thought as if imagining it.

"Anywhere you wanted," Luhan replies.

"Okay," Minseok says. "We'd have to leave really early if we wanted to sneak out of the city, otherwise we’d have to deal with reporters."

Luhan’s finds himself biting his bottom lip in thought as he plans out his next question. "What if instead I said let's go to a compound, and join the Red Devils?"

"You'd never join the Red Devils," Minseok retorts.

"Hypothetically," Luhan says.

"Well," Minseok starts off slowly, "If you woke up with a completely different personality and decided you wanted to run off to a compound, I'd come along, and make sure you didn't do anything as suicidal as joining the Red Devils."

"But you wouldn't want to," Luhan asks.

"I wouldn't want you joining the Red Devils," Minseok specifies. "If you wanted to run away to a compound I'd come with you.”

"Are you being serious," Luhan asks. "If I really asked you to come with me, you would without questions? You could do that?"

Minseok turns towards him, eyes studying him, roaming over every inch of his face. "Yes," he says a moment later. "If you were serious about leaving this city, I'd come along. Wouldn’t you do the same for me?"

"No," Luhan says, he catches Minseok's scrutinizing eyes and drops his gaze. "Maybe," he admits after barely a minute of thought.

He had thought Sehun and Tao were being illogical and immature by running away without a second thought, but if Minseok woke up tomorrow, asking him to leave the city, to run away from it all, he would. After all, he had stayed for Minseok.

The desire to leave Capital City had swelled up within him the moment President Kim had given him his new position within the company. More than his previous childish fantasies, or even the brief urges to leave after a confrontation with the man, that feeling like a tidal wave climbing higher and higher within him, had washed over him until he was making step-by-step plans to leave.

It had only relented when he realized Minseok wouldn't accompany him. Luhan had believed that the man, more rational than he was, wouldn't drop everything for a brief relationship when he hadn't even left the city with his parents, and he didn’t want to leave Minseok behind to face President Kim’s wrath alone.

** **** **

Luhan enters his office with two cups of coffee in each hand, Joohyun is already at her desk, head in her hand as she stares ahead with a bored expression. She sits up at the sight of Luhan, just as he places the cup in his left hand on her desk.

"What's this," she asks, her hands placed across her lap in a manner that reminded him of the proper girls that he'd meet at social gatherings.

"A thank you," he replies, smiling down at her. "We’ve hadn’t been here for a week and I already have you lying to our president for me."

Joohyun grins a conspiring grin at him. "Well," she starts off, "looking out for you and helping when I can is a pretty big part of my job description. However, I'll be taking this," she adds on quickly as if worried Luhan might take it back.

"It's black," Luhan tells her, "I'm not sure how you like your coffee, so I figured you could steal a few creamers and sugar from one of the other offices." She quirks a brow at Luhan's statement and lifts her cup as if making a toast.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she adds, with a grin as she stands. Luhan watches her leave the office and sighs.

Talking to Joohyun had been a distraction amid his whirlwind thoughts in the same manner talking to Minseok on the elevator up had been, brief but all-welcoming and much needed. With every moment of silence, Luhan was forced back into thinking of what he should be telling President Kim. Yesterday's promise of tomorrow had somehow transformed into a promise of later. He'd tell President Kim of Sehun's betrayal later, at the last moment of the day when he could just escape afterwards and deal with the real repercussions the next day.

** **** **

Later, Luhan soon realizes while the sun is shining at its highest point, was taking its time to come around and that was tortuous. He had given up all hope of finding and stopping Sehun, it was much too late now, but that didn’t end the worry. It was his duty to report Sehun’s accident to President Kim before the media found out or worse, and Luhan knew how President Kim would react if he found out Luhan was withholding such monumental information, but it didn’t make it easier.

His thoughts were consumed by his worries, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on work or on different thoughts he couldn’t. His mind continued to linger on Sehun, President Kim, and his duties, and despite how frustrating and maddening his thoughts were he was still far from wishing the time would go by faster.

The sun does eventually set, and Luhan finally leaves the confines of his office, walking with stiff steps to the elevator. He’s more aware of every muscle and nerve in his face than he’s ever been and so he keeps his expression as neutral as possible, not wanting President Kim to pick up on anything.

The elevator moves too fast, and the walk towards President Kim's office seems longer than ever before, as if the floor and walls have elongated to give him more time to change his mind and flee.

Minseok isn't at his desk, when Luhan enters the main office, and that does nothing to abate the nerves he's trying to hide.

He knows he should wait and see if President Kim is alone, but the coward in him, the broke Perfect side that forces him to still feel fear, is telling him it’s now or never. If he doesn’t push forward then he’ll end up not telling President Kim until tomorrow or later, if ever. He takes a step forward and then another, pushes himself to stand in front of President Kim’s office.

He draws in a deep shaky breath, his last show of weakness and clasps the metal door handle in his hand. It’s cold to touch, but he ignores that, pushing it and his nerves down at the same time as he opens the door slowly. He stops wants he hears President Kim’s voice, waiting to gauge rather he’s in an important conversation or not, even though Luhan doubts everything could possible top his announcement.

He can only catch the very end of President Kim’s words just as the man erupts into laughter. It’s his usual mocking laughter, the one he tends to subject Luhan to when he thinks Luhan’s very existence is a joke created for his amusement. Luhan nearly pushes forward at that moment, the remnants of past shames driving him onward. He only stops when he hears the man’s next words, and instead he settles back, curiosity erupting within him.

"Are you sure you're not a Perfect," is what Luhan assumes he hears, the words are loud in the silent office, but Luhan’s still not sure he heard it correctly. President Kim would call him an Imperfect every time Luhan revealed a new flaw or failed in some way. He had a hatred for Imperfects so deep it made Luhan's own dislike look like love when compared to it. Luhan couldn't think of any circumstances that would have President Kim talking amicably with one.

“You’re better at pretending to be one than that pathetic excuse for one I allowed to become my heir.” Anger and embarrassment twists in Luhan’s gut at being talked about in such a way to a stranger, but he continues to listen in. He instead focuses on a new, twisted but hopeful, thought that if he caught President Kim in a scandal with an Imperfect he might finally be free of his tyranny. The person he's talking to speaks too softly compared to President Kim’s loud and boastful tone, and all Luhan can make out is soft mutterings that he chooses not to pay attention to. He no longer cares about the person President Kim is talking to, instead he focuses on his new plan to catch President Kim saying something incriminating.

"How long do you have to keep pretending," President Kim asks, his tone mocking. "Well how would I know? Weren’t you the one that came to me looking for employment and pretending to be a Perfect? Are you planning to quit soon?"

Luhan hears a mutter of what he assumes is a "No, sir."

"Ah," President Kim says next, and Luhan can just imagine the smirk on his face from the countless times President Kim has played this game with him. "Are you already bored of him? You used to get so indignant and flustered when I insulted him, but now you see it as well, right? He's weaker than even your kind.”

Luhan’s stomach drops at President Kim’s words. So used to the verbal abuse President Kim would subject him to, it sounds as if he’s being talked about once more, and it makes him nervous as he continues listening in.

“You will continue to watch over him and report to me on any behavior that might impact my company's image in any way.  You will not tell him about this, and you will not quit the company until I think your job is done,” President Kim tells the mystery person, his voice taking on a tone that was a mixture of threatening and business. “You might think that just because your parents are gone and your tracker's been removed you're safe, but I can assure you, Kim Minseok, you are not. Your lies will have you imprisoned, and if the world finds out you were trying to turn Luhan into a Red Devil, and steal government secrets, well then you'll be dead.”

** **** **

Luhan sits alone in his dark office. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights after his swift escape from President Kim’s office, all thoughts of Sehun had finally eased from his head as he came back to his office. He sits at his desk, eyes staring into nothingness as his mind repeats President Kim’s words. The words loop around his brain, crashing hard into mental blocks every time he tries to understand, to comprehend what he’d overheard.

His subconscious whispers the word “denial” like a taunt, but that wasn’t right because what he heard couldn’t be right. Minseok, because it had to have been Minseok President Kim was talking to, was an… he couldn’t even stomach thinking the word. Minseok was a First Gen, that was a fact. He had to be, because Luhan would have figured out that he wasn’t by now. He ignores the memories trying to push forward, memories of suspicious behavior Luhan had dismissed without a second thought, and tries to analyze what he overheard.

President Kim wanted Minseok to keep watch over him. Luhan had thought he'd won Minseok over, that he had proven himself to be more than the fickle with love model Minseok had perceived him as, but that seemed fabricated now.

He leans forward then, elbows planted on the desk and hands reaching up to cradle his head. It didn't feel fake though, the attraction hadn't felt feigned, and the way Minseok looked after him after restless nights seemed real. And last night when Minseok had promised to run away with him, he thought his willingness was over-exaggerated, but it hadn't felt false either.

His fingers tangle into his hair, clutching tight enough that Luhan can feel stabs of pain here and there. According to a one-sided conversation that Luhan had overheard between the man he cared about, and the man he hated, he was being fooled. He remembers the man he’d spoken to about leaving the city with Imperfects, and the disfiguring scar on Minseok’s chest, so close to his heart. Minseok was an Imperfect and President Kim had ordered him to watch over Luhan, that at least seemed like a fact. He ignores the swirl of disgust in his stomach, and the way his throat tightens as if his body's trying to strangle itself, and continues on as objective as possible. President Kim was threatening Minseok, another fact.

Minseok was not trying to convert Luhan to a Red Devil. A lie? He remembers the conversation from last night, and shakes his head in disagreement at the side of him wondering if it was secretly true. Luhan had brought up the Red Devils because of Sehun and not Minseok, Minseok seemed against the idea of Luhan joining the Red Devils in even the most hypothetical of scenarios.

Minseok was not trying to steal government secrets from what Luhan could tell. If he was, Luhan would assume he'd try to wheedle out as much information from him being that Junmyeon and Yixing had family in the high ranks of Government, and they were high-ranking CNS officers. That was also a lie.

He starts over once more, now only listing the facts, the few things he'd overhead that he was sure held more truth than the others. Minseok was an Imperfect. No matter how real or false his feelings were he was with Luhan on President Kim's order. He had committed fraud. And, Luhan had fallen for it all, he'd always been cautious and weary and the first person he'd decided to really give his heart to had given him nothing but lies and secrets in return.

A sudden knocking has him jerking his head up. He hears the call of his name, Minseok’s call of his name, loud and clear in the empty office, and he stares. He waits for a moment, and then pushes out of his chair as quiet as possible crossing his office to stand in front of his door. He imagines the confrontation in many different ways as he struggles with just opening the door. He imagines yelling and cursing and threatening to tell CNS about Minseok's lies, but it all seems so far away, so impossible at the moment. The anger that should be there, that should be catching fire to his insides, doesn't exist. He hears Minseok huff in annoyance as the knocking stops, and he walks back to his desk, sitting there and staring at the door in bewilderment.

He doesn't feel anything anymore, the disgust has ebbed away, and so have the feelings of sadness. There's only a heaviness to his limps, and an emptiness inside.


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Joohyun is already seated at her desk when Luhan exits his office the next morning. He watches her turn to him, and then watches as her smile slips from her lips, and her face shifts into an expression of concern.

“Sir,” she says, her voice just barely heard over the hum of her computer. “Are you okay?”

Luhan allows his lips to tug upward, he knows it isn’t a smile, but he hopes its reassuring regardless. “I’m fine,” he says. “I’ve done all that’s needed to be finished by today, and left what you need to do in my office with a set of instructions.”

Joohyun nods her head to his words, glancing over to his closed office door and then back towards him.

"Will you not be returning to the office," she asks.

"Probably not," Luhan admits. "You don't have to lie on my behalf today. If someone needs to talk to me just give them my number."

"Okay," she says, her smile returning as she bids him goodbye.

** **** **

Luhan doesn’t drive off right away once he gets to his car. He sits hunched forward, hands sweeping down the length of his face, and dragging back up as he thinks.

He tries to remedy the emptiness within, tries to think of Minseok as the lover he knew him as, but that doesn’t work. Those former feelings of happiness, of hopefulness and adoration, have gotten lost. So, he tries to see Minseok using President Kim’s eyes, as the Imperfect scum he was supposed to be, or as the pawn in a game of dominance, but the disgust never comes.

When he closes his eyes he sees Minseok in his childhood home, sitting beside him on the dusty tiled floor underneath the kitchen’s broken window, but he hears President Kim’s voice, condescending and vile. The emotions that should be there fizzle into a numbness, and the little voice in his head that sounds so similar to President Kim's but Luhan knows it's his own, is telling him to give it all up, to let the emotions swirling in his gut curl up and die. It whispers, reminding him of all the times he's been humiliated, and he listens and allows himself to believe that his newfound apathy is for the best.

** **** **

Luhan’s apartment is empty when he opens the door. Minseok doesn’t have any personal items lying around, but Luhan can feel him in the apartment as if he’d embedded a piece of himself there for good.

He should have agreed when Minseok had said he could move out. Luhan could have ended things, and then went on pretending he never existed. At least then Minseok’s essence would have evaporated from his apartment, he wouldn’t have to deal with memories of sitting in the kitchen eating Minseok’s breakfast less than 24 hours ago.

Luhan pushes the thoughts out of his mind instantly. Instead he focuses his attention on getting himself cleaned up. Joohyun had looked at him as if he was on the edge of death, and from the few glances of his reflection he couldn’t blame her.

He’d spent most of his night in thought, and even if he had wanted to sleep his mind wouldn’t allow it. His insomnia kept him awake, kept him thinking even when his body ached with fatigue.

It takes ninety minutes for him to look more alive, most of the time spent under the warm spray of his showerhead, contemplating his next move. Once dressed and ready, Luhan walks over to the nightstand beside his bed, pulling things from the top drawer until all he sees is the smooth polish of wood. He glides his fingertips along the wood until his fingernail scraps a microscopic indentation.

He pulls with his nail, lifting it up until it reveals a hidden compartment. He takes out the only items within the compartment, and rearranges his drawer.

He sits on his bed, holding the possessions he’d retrieved. They’re both ordinary white packages, adorned with a tiny speck of color on each. The woman he'd brought them from had promised that they'd work as he wished, but he had been wary of testing them, worried that the side-effects would affect him differently. He drops the box with the bit of blue and opens the one left in his hand, wondering if Minseok had his own secret box stashed somewhere. Junmyeon, or was it Yixing, had said before that Imperfects were great at pretending, and Luhan had only just found out the length Imperfects went to impersonate Perfects.

He leaves both boxes on his bed, he sees no point in hiding contraband, when he’s been unwittingly harboring an Imperfect.

** **** **

Minseok is at his desk when Luhan enters the office, his brown eyes are trained on his computer monitor as he types away.

"Is President Kim alone," Luhan asks, watching as Minseok lifts his head to look at him.

“Yes,” Minseok answers, he starts to say something else, but Luhan walks around his desk and enters the office, before the secretary can say more. He closes the door with more force than intended, watching as President Kim lifts his head to glare at him.

“What are you doing here,” the older man asks, the annoyance dripping from every word that leaves his mouth.

“Oh Sehun, one of the models I worked with has run away,” Luhan answers, stepping farther into the room. He’s sure President Kim doesn’t know Sehun by name alone, but specifying that Sehun was managed by Kyungsoo as well, would at least help him along a bit.

“What do you mean he’s run away,” President Kim asks. “Where has he run off to?”

“A compound,” Luhan replies swiftly, “Apparently he met an Imperfect and decided to run off with it. He’d left a letter to his roommate, also one of your models.”

“Have you told the authorities,” President Kim asks next.

Luhan shakes his head in answer, “He’s probably long gone by now, and I figured it would be better for our image if we told the public something different. We can’t be the company endorsed by Great Ruler and have our talents turning traitor, can we?”

President Kim stares at him, gaze hard and examining as if trying to read Luhan’s mind, and Luhan stares back. A spark of defiance alights within him, his eyes narrowing by subconscious demand in an act of challenge.

“Very well,” President Kim says with a nod of dismissal. Luhan tries his best not to smirk as he leaves the office, walking with his head high, refusing to spare Minseok a glance as he passes him.

“Luhan,” Minseok calls out to him when he’s steps away from the door. Luhan turns just a bit so he can look at the secretary. “Are you okay,” Minseok asks him, eyes bright with curiosity.

Luhan purses his lips in thought. He turns back towards the door and shakes his head. “No,” he says, turning fully to Minseok. “I don’t think I am.” He pauses once he’s standing beside Minseok, staring down at him with a ferocious intensity. “I’ve been trying to find answers to a few questions I’ve had since last night.”

“What questions,” Minseok asks him with a tilt of his head.

“The one I’m really curious about is, why would an Imperfect date a Perfect that detests their very being,” Luhan says. His eyes roam along the length of Minseok’s face watching for the slightest hint of a change of features.

Minseok frowns, but responds, “Why would a Perfect date an Imperfect if he detests them so much?”

“That’s a good question,” Luhan replies, “so let’s say this Perfect was conned into it. Unwittingly tricked into believing this Imperfect was not actually what they seemed to be. I can’t understand why the Imperfect would choose to stay with him though, especially if he says such nasty things about Imperfects.

“Coercion, maybe,” Minseok says, “or protection. If his hatred of Imperfects is so well known, no one would imagine he’d date one.”

“But,” Luhan starts, “What happens if the Perfect finds out? I imagine a person wouldn’t be able to keep such a secret for long. Does the Imperfect assume he’d be so smitten he won’t react rationally? Or does the Imperfect assume his hatred will just… stop? Like a fairytale?”

Minseok doesn’t say anything in return, his gaze is lost as he looks pass Luhan’s shoulder. Luhan bites his bottom lip, hating the emotion that passes over him as he softens his stare. “Sehun has run off with Tao,” Luhan says, watching as Minseok’s gaze snaps back towards him. “It happened two days ago, that was the emergency I had to deal with. I spent most of the day looking for him, instead I found just how far Imperfects were willing to go to leave the city and pretend to be Perfects.”

“Can you blame them,” Minseok asks. “Even the dumbest of animals will try their hardest to survive if they’re hunted, why should Imperfects be any different when they’re treated as such? Even Perfects have been known to do what they can to survive when threats emerge.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Luhan replies.

** **** **

Kyungsoo's glare is as strong as it was when Luhan had walked out of Jongin's apartment days before, but he moves aside to allow Luhan to enter his apartment.

"What are you doing here," Kyungsoo asks him.

"Taking a personal day," Luhan replies. "I told President Kim about Sehun. We're thinking of some lie to feed the media when the time comes. Where's Kai?"

"He went back to District Five, I think Sehun's departure reminded him of their families."

"Hopefully he doesn't tell Sehun's parents about the situation. No mother wants to hear that her son has become a traitor."

"What are you doing here," Kyungsoo asks. "I know it's not to make small talk and I know it's not to apologize about being an asshole.”

"I'll apologize about being an asshole the moment you do," Luhan retorts in a childish manner. He falls down onto Kyungsoo's couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he tries to gather his thoughts. "How long have you known?"

"What–" Kyungsoo starts, but Luhan continues speaking.

"I figured you found out before our flight to Phoenix City, but at your dinner party you told me not to trust him, so did you know sooner?"

"You're talking about Minseok," Kyungsoo asks.

"Yes, I'm talking about Minseok," Luhan says, opening his eyes just so he can roll them at the younger. "Of course I'm talking about Minseok, or do you have more things you're hiding from me." He pauses drawing in a deep breath and continues to speak.

"You know, I didn't want to do this in person. I thought if I saw your face it would make me angrier. It's one thing to be lied to by President Kim, it's another to be lead on and lied to by a man I just met, but to be lied to by you… When Sehun ran away you looked at me as if I had planted the idea in his head, just because I never told you about his relationship. You acted like I betrayed you, yet all along you were hiding even worse things behind my back. Did President Kim promise you a nice big promotion, or were you just happy to pass along your duties to someone new?"

"Luhan, I don't–" Kyungsoo starts, trying to speak once more.

"Don't lie, Kyungsoo," Luhan retorts. "Let's not play pretend. You knew, and even if you didn't, you had a theory that you didn't believe was important enough to tell me about. So I want answers. Why did you feel as though I didn’t need to know what Minseok was hiding? You can put on that mask that hides your emotions and I won't get upset, I'd prefer it. President Kim wants me to be a better Perfect, so you should show me how the perfect... Perfect has no qualms about betraying friends."

"I wasn't trying to deceive you," Kyungsoo says. "I thought it was strange, some of the things Sehun and Jongin were telling me about him, and then I found out about your infatuation and it made me suspicious. I know how our people work, Luhan, they're conniving and willing to do illegal things to achieve their desires, so I got someone to find out some information on him, but the things I was finding out didn't make sense. The person that was helping me said that it meant that he was hiding something."

"Who was the person helping you," Luhan asks, feeling as if Kyungsoo was hiding something else.

"Junmyeon," Kyungsoo answers. "One of the first things we found out was that Minseok has a sister that lives four houses down from Jongin, but her chip revealed nothing about a brother, and they usually have adopted and biological family members. From there, all the information begun to point to the same conclusion. Junmyeon and Yixing don't care about every Imperfect that lies to live, they care about the Red Devils and those that aid the Red Devils, so when we found out that Minseok was an Imperfect, we left it alone. I was going to tell you to stay away from him, but then you told me about President Kim threatening him, so I made a different decision."

"A decision that had you standing on the side watching as I fell for him," Luhan says. "What makes you think that I haven't informed anyone about him being an Imperfect?"

"Because you're too in love with him," Kyungsoo says. "We were working on a way to extract him from under President Kim's hand, and we didn't tell you because your hatred of Imperfects could have had you doing something irrational."

"When did you grow a heart," Luhan asks sarcastically. "It doesn't matter that I got hurt because of him, it doesn't matter that he's spying on me for President Kim, because he's the poor weak Imperfect, and I'm the irrational, too emotional First Generation Perfect. Do you even realize that your reasoning for not telling me was the reason why President Kim thought it was a good idea to use him to spy on me?"

"This isn't about you being a First Gen," Kyungsoo says.

"But it is," Luhan replies. "Me being a First Gen, is an integral part of it. I've resolved myself to that fact by the way, I'll always be a First Gen. While you saw two outcomes, one more severe than the other, you justify your choice by saying that my pain is smaller than Minseok's, you ignore everything in between, because you're main objective was to help Minseok and keep me from hurting him, regardless of rather he was lying or spying on me.”

"I didn't want you to be the reason Minseok was brought to one of the detention centers for Imperfects," Kyungsoo says. "If you knew what they did and had him go, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. I did it for you as well."

Luhan laughs. "Thank you for the betrayal Kyungsoo, that's what you want me to say right? I'm not mad at you for keeping Minseok safe, I'm mad at you for not trusting me enough to tell me about what he was hiding. I'm mad that you allowed me to fall in love with him when he was using me. Even now, you keep saying that telling me would have led to him being sent away, which means you still don't believe that I would have been objective about the situation. You believed, just like President Kim, that I was ruled by emotions and moods, and so, you had no problem watching me fall for him because like you said now I can't hurt him because I'm 'too in love with him'."

When Kyungsoo doesn’t speak up again, Luhan rises from his seat. “I’d hoped that you were hiding Minseok’s secret for a different reason,” Luhan says. “I won’t be reporting Minseok, not because of what you think, but because it would hurt him and not President Kim. That man would love for me to turn on Minseok, he doesn’t care about him or any person’s life he ruins as long as it doesn't affect him, and I’d hate to bring him such happiness.”

He doesn’t tell Kyungsoo the true reason why he won’t report Minseok, he’d lost all chances of that information after having his lies revealed. Luhan had no clue what he was going to do with Minseok, and it was worrying. He couldn’t stand to look at Minseok any longer, and yet he wanted to hear his side of the story even though he doubted he’d be able to forgive the secretary easily.

“If our roles were reversed I would have told you,” Luhan says, “It Jongin was the one lying to you I would have told you the minute I suspected something. Maybe that’s a flaw too, Maybe First Gens think too highly of those we call friends.”

** **** **

Luhan picks up Minseok hours later, noticing the look of surprise and relief that crosses his features when he sees Luhan’s car. It makes him inquisitive, wondering what had went through Minseok’s mind last night when he saw Luhan’s car but couldn’t get in contact with the former model.

_Had he returned to their… Luhan’s place?  
Had he been worried?_   
_Had he been relieved?_

The car ride back to his apartment is quieter than it’s ever been. Minseok sits silent more so than usual, his eyes lingering on the surrounding buildings and the passing cars, fingers playing with the cuff of his sleeve.

When Luhan isn’t sneaking glances at Minseok, he’s thinking about the inevitable confrontation. He can barely focus on the drive, the lights of the city and the cars are giving him a headache, and so he pulls over.

His mind is overloading with thoughts until he yanks forward the one thing that’s been consistent since the night before. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What,” Minseok asks, voice barely above a whisper and barely heard over the rush of traffic around them.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Luhan asks, turning towards him. “It’s the one thing I’ve been wondering since last night, and after talking to Kyungsoo I think I know, but I want to hear from you. Why didn’t you tell me President Kim was threatening you, Minseok?”


	31. Chapter Thirty

Cars are zooming pass in glaring blurs of red and white lights. Luhan looks from the hurried traffic to the man sitting beside him. Minseok had stopped playing with his shirt’s cuff, but his hand was still gripping it as he stared with blank eyes forward. Luhan isn’t sure if he is staring at the city ahead of them or something unseen and not really there. When Luhan turns to the city before him, he actually looks at it, taking in the buildings tall enough to touch the sky, the glow of light that promises life and fun at every second.

"I thought it would be best for the both of us if you didn't know," Minseok says.

"Why," Luhan asks, it comes out as a whisper. "I would have understood. I know what type of man he is, you wouldn't have even needed to tell me what he was blackmailing you with. I would have helped you." It feels weird telling Minseok that he would have helped with no questions asked, but he’d done it time and time before, Minseok had given him half-truths and white lies and Luhan had accepted it, had trusted that Minseok would eventually tell him everything.

“There’s this really overused saying that the older District Eighters use,” Minseok starts off. “Rather they’re talking about the Perfects of the wealthier districts, or the children of our own, ‘ignorance is bliss’. They say our government runs on it, the less the public knows the happier the public will be. When it came to this—because of your history with President Kim—I believed not telling you would keep you safe and happy.”

"I find it hard to believe that you didn't think far enough ahead to imagine how'd I feel when I found out," Luhan says next.

“I did,” Minseok says. “I didn’t think we’d be having this conversation when you found out. You were supposed to have been done with me at that point. The moment I stepped into Nessen I knew it was going to be the last job I would have, and when President Kim approached me I thought about doing the moral thing, but I didn't want to go back to that place and he knew that and used it against me. I told myself it was okay because my feelings for you were real and I could keep you safe by reporting nonsense to him until it was over."

It's Luhan turn to be silent, to have Minseok wait as he sits and thinks and recalls. There is still much he wants to know and ask, but many of those things he’s not sure he wants to really know the answer to. "...You didn't start dating me because you changed your mind, did you?"

He can feel Minseok's eyes on him, but he refuses to look at the secretary as he waits for the answer he already knows. Minseok had been adamant about their fundamental differences, and Luhan had thought that was because they were from different districts, but it hadn't been. Minseok was an Imperfect, and that wasn't as easy to ignore as cold houses and hardened hands.

"No," Minseok answers, Luhan can hear something in his voice but he refuses to decipher it. "He didn't ask me to date you, he gave me a personal excuse to use when I wanted to be with you but was too afraid to act on it."

Luhan clenches his jaw and turns towards the traffic. "That's not good enough," he whispers. "I don't think I can be with you right now," he adds. He sees the faces of past lovers in the glowing red of the passing cars, lovers that had done far less than what Minseok has done and yet were given far less understanding and revulsion swirls in his gut.

Luhan hated Imperfects, hated how outright pathetic they were. He hated that even when they were wrong, they still made you pity them. Minseok wasn’t deserving of his pity, he had choices, multiple choices, and yet he chose the wrong option, to lead Luhan on, and lie and use him.

"Every time I look at you it makes me angry," Luhan says, "and I hate myself a bit more for being such a fool. Everyone I've ever been with has lied to me and I expected that from them, but I thought you were different. It was stupid of me to think of you as different... I don't think this world allows honesty to exist." He starts the car again and turns towards Minseok, doing his best to ignore the look in his eyes.

"I won't report you," he says. "So, where do you want me to take you?"

"Home," Minseok replies. Luhan's lips tug downwards into a frown, but he nods his head.

** **** **

The street Minseok’s family home sits on is deserted. The sole working streetlamp flickers as fast as a heartbeat, and the houses stand lifeless in the shadows. The first time Luhan had seen Minseok's home it was the only one with light, the only one that looked warm and welcoming, now just like its neighbors it looks dead. Luhan looks from the house to Minseok, and is startled to see the secretary already looking at him.

It wasn't that long ago when he’d felt something raw and new every time he’d met Minseok’s eyes. It had been a feeling of being trapped and overwhelmed by his emotions. Back then he’d been afraid but he’d enjoyed it, now there was a new feeling and he hated it. "I'll keep you safe from him until we can figure something out," he watches as Minseok's lips quirk, but continues. "I'm sure you can handle yourself against him as well."

"You hate Imperfects, Luhan," Minseok says, his smile still on his lips.

"I don't..." Luhan trails off. "I don't hate you the way the government hates you. I'm helping you because I think it's unfair the way President Kim put you between us. If he hadn't, it would be different."

"You'd have had me taken away," Minseok asks.

"I'd do what I felt was best," Luhan says, "I'm not sure what's best in this situation for either of us, except that I can't be in the same room with you. I need time to think."

"So my future is in your hands now," Minseok says, sighing and leaning his head back.

"Isn't it better to have it in the hands of a man who genuinely cares about you versus some megalomaniac that throws people away like they're cheap toys?" He shakes his head, turning away from Minseok. "It doesn't matter. I'll help you until I can get you out of President Kim's hold, then you can do what you want from there. It's your life."

No one makes a sound nor moves, Luhan can still feel Minseok beside him, staring at him, but he's back to refusing to return his gaze. He hears the click of the door, and feels the rush of a restless breeze. "Thank you," Minseok says. Luhan doesn't reply. He keeps his eyes aimed straight ahead until the door closes and he's alone in his car, and then he takes off.

** **** **

Luhan eyes snap open as his body lurches upward.  He falls back down into his bed, and breathes in a deep breath of air, releasing it as the fragmented pieces of his mind worked their way back in place. His room is dark, but his internal clock has him believing the day has long started. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, and his clothes from the day before sticks to his body. There’s a shrill ringing in his ear which he realizes is the sound of his phone.

Luhan toys with the idea of looking for the device, and going into work, but he heaves a deep groan and turns in bed so he can press his face against the pillows to escape the stench of alcohol clinging to him.

The second time Luhan opens his eyes, his room is still dark, but the persistent ringing of his phone has stopped. There is less of a drowsiness as he lies in bed, contemplating rather or not he should really stay home.

He wants to stay. He wants to drive President Kim mad a little while longer, but with the alcohol waning from his bloodstream and his bed gradually increasing in size, he settles for being the responsible adult that has someone else’s life in his hands.

** **** **

"Is President Kim alone," Luhan asks as he crosses the room towards President Kim's office. Minseok nods his head, not looking up from the screen of his computer. Luhan doesn't question the behavior, instead he steps into the all-white office, doing his best to control his grin as he meets President Kim's livid expression.

"Were you trying to piss me off," President Kim asks him, voice low and threatening as he glares at Luhan.

"No sir," Luhan replies.

"I thought I made it clear you would refrain from such behavior unless you wanted me to intervene," President Kim says next.

"I thought it would be best to have the tabloids talking about me instead of wondering about the fate of your highest sought after models, now that I'm gone. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to trace Sehun's whereabouts. I'm told he wasn't all that discrete in his obsession with that Imperfect," Luhan replies. "We wouldn't want the cover up backfiring."

"You thought it would be best to keep the tabloid reporters off the traitor's tail by destroying our image instead," President Kim asks in disbelief.

"No," Luhan asks. "I only went out to drink and nothing more. I didn't leave with a person, and it was a under the guise of celebrating my promotion.” He leans forward in his seat, eager to explain his newly thought up plan to the older man.  “Let me continue on with this for a while longer, and I can guarantee you that they won't care about Sehun's whereabouts until we're able to put out the story we want, and then I can promise that any speculation about his leaving will be in the context of the group dynamic and his relationship with me, instead of who he may have left with." President Kim's glare hs hot on his skin as Luhan stares at the desk in front of him, attempting to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

It was a good plan even if it only took Luhan the car ride over to think of. President Kim wouldn’t want to give into Luhan’s whims, but he’d agree and enforce as many restrictions as he could to show Luhan who was still in charge. That didn’t bother him.

"If you'd like time to think it over sir, I can check in with Joohyun in the meantime," Luhan states standing.

"Whatever you're planning," President Kim starts glaring at him. "I will find out, and when I do find out, you and that lover boy of yours will have a lot more to worry about than tabloid speculation."

Luhan finally grins, his lips tug upward exposing his teeth as he smiles down at President Kim. He feels unafraid and so powerful, and now, now he could understand why Second Gens were so reckless. Caution was for those who feared and doubted their abilities. “I’m not planning anything sir,” he promises.

President Kim remains staring, and Luhan can feel him searching and analyzing him, attempting to understand what has changed within the former model. Luhan does his best to keep his smile from widening, so he won’t be seen as taunting the older man.

“You’re dismissed,” President Kim states. Luhan nods and turns away, leaving the office.

When he leaves President Kim's office he's tempted to stop and talk to Minseok, but he buries the temptation. He didn't need to reassure Minseok that he'd be okay. Luhan had already promised him that, and he was sure President Kim had already called him in to ask about their relationship. Time away from Minseok meant Luhan was repositioning Minseok's place in his life, and that meant ignoring the feelings that were still racing about within him.

Joohyun looks surprised to see him as he steps into the office, her hands are grabbing at the strands of her dark hair, pulling her hair into a ponytail as she greets him with an uneasy smile. "Sir," she says, toffee brown eyes roaming over him looking for something off. "I didn't think you were coming in today," she says.

"Sorry about that," Luhan tells him, he doesn't feel guilty about coming in late to a job he never wanted, but with Joohyun being so easy to work with he didn't want to strain that relationship as well.

"I've actually expected worse," she tells him. "It's no secret that you didn't ask for this job and you're well-known in most clubs. I'll admit that I expected to do a lot more to cover for you."

"Well," Luhan begins, "if I have a hangover tomorrow you can do all the work I'm too unwell to do."

Joohyun grins at him, and turns towards her monitor. "I've already started some of your more important work. You have to look over the planning for next month's style showcase and give your input. The budget plans are there as well."

Luhan grimaces at her words, but nods his head and enters his office to get to work.

** **** **

Someone is in his apartment. The lights are on and Luhan usually kept the setting to manual, preferring to switch them on himself instead of having them blind him the moment he stepped inside.

Luhan could hear the softest tapping sound while he stood at his door, but whoever was in his apartment was refusing to come to him, which meant kicking them out would be harder.

He pushed forward walking deeper into his apartment, the alcohol in his gut sloshing about as he advanced towards his kitchen with measured steps.

Kris is there, head resting in the palm of his hand as he looks to Luhan with a tired expression.

“His things are still here.” It's the first thing Kris has said to him since their fight in his office.

Luhan blinks at Kris, slow and confused and then he casts a quick look around the room. “What,” he asks. Kris stares at him, and so Luhan stares back waiting for Kris to comment on his inebriated state.

“That secretary… Minseok, his things are still here,” Kris clarifies.

“I never gave him a chance to get them,” Luhan replies, walking deeper into the kitchen for a glass of water.

“But you broke up,” Kris says.

Luhan frowns turning towards him and glaring. Kris stares back and Luhan can see the spark of amusement in his eyes. “How did you know,” Luhan asks.

“This is your routine,” Kris says. “Go out, get drunk and hook up with a few people, and then find someone else to invest your spare time in. You usually don't keep their things lying around.”

Luhan opens his mouth to speak, but he shuts it just as quickly, the resentment comes rushing back to him and he glares. “I'm fine. You can go,” Luhan says suddenly. Kris frowns, but Luhan ignores it, walking out of his kitchen and towards his bedroom.

“Are you still mad about our argument,” Kris asks. “I'm sorry for what I said, but it's not fair that you're the only one that gets to make bad decisions.”

“You think being with your intern is a bad decision,” Luhan asks.

“No,” Kris answers. “You do. I can take care of myself, Luhan.”

Luhan stares off into nothingness, and he nods. “Okay,” he says. “You may leave now.”

“I’m not leaving,” Kris responds. “What happened? Why are his things still here?”

Luhan tries to recall what Kris knows and what he doesn't, and what he hopes Kris doesn’t know. Then he makes a list of all the things he won't talk about because it makes him seem pathetic.

“Minseok is an,” Luhan starts, and then stops. He still hadn’t used the word in relation to Minseok out loud. “He’s an Imperfect.” He forces the word out, waiting for Kris to say something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're all caught up!


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

“…and it worked,” he says, “I didn’t feel any side-effects either, I just felt invincible like I knew something the rest of the world could only dream of knowing.”

Kris is beside him in a bed that’s much too big for the both of them despite being well into their adulthood. His list of things he wouldn’t reveal to Kris has been forgotten and Luhan spills his soul in the comfort of Kris’s guest room. For the first time in such a long time Kris is focused only on him, silent and listening, refusing to pass judgement even as Luhan tells him about the containers of pills he’d acquired from a brothel months ago.

One packet had been the sleeping pills his physician had stop giving him, the pills that brought him a deep dreamless sleep, the second was said to make a person feel and behave just like a Perfect. He wasn’t sure about the science behind it. The brothel madam he’d brought them from hadn’t gone into detail about it, and Luhan hadn’t bothered to ask.

He had been wary about testing them at first, but after feeling powerless to the events around him, and losing the little control he held over his emotions, he figured nothing worse could happen.

Fatigue clouds the outskirts of his mind, but Luhan pushes forward, loose-tongued, fuzzy-brained, talking to the only person he feels as if he can trust now.

“What did President Kim do to you growing up,” Kris asks in a pensive whisper. Luhan looks up to him, and instead of sympathy or pity, he sees the confused furrow of Kris’s eyebrows and the downturn of his lips.

“Nothing,” Luhan lies out of habit. He breathes in, recalling his first month of living with the cruel man. “Nothing that caused any lasting damage.” Another lie. “I mean eating issues started when I started living with him, but that's mostly my fault.” He’ll never tell Kris about his days of voluntary and then forced starvation, or when he swallowed the poison. Especially not about drinking the poison.  He closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind of that last thought. He hadn’t thought about _that_ in a long time. That had been a blip in his resolve, a moment of weakness when continuing on had just been too… hard.

"Tell me about Chanyeol," Luhan commands when he runs out of words and can’t seem to change the subject of their conversation.

"You should go to sleep, Lu," Kris replies.

"Tell me about how you ended up with him," Luhan presses. "I'll sleep after. I won't even comment or make a face. I can be neutral." He pulls his face into his best blank expression, eyes gleaming with a tired amusement.

"It just happened," Kris says, shrugging.

"I was right about you being attracted to him," Luhan says, grinning at his friend. "You're not spontaneous Kris."

"It wasn't a physical attraction at first, he was just sunny and determined and I guess…" he trails off.

"You have a type," Luhan says. "I don't mean that the way I did before. You like them pretty and strong-willed. You used to like 'em in need of saving but I guess you grew out of that."

Kris stares at him with soft eyes, and Luhan stares back a bit flustered. Their history is so different than all the others that grew up with them. He knows what Kris sees when he looks at him that way because he sees it too. The pair of them falling apart and trying to glue themselves back together throughout the years.

"Sleep with me," Luhan commands, moving closer to Kris while wiggling his eyebrows. "I know you're as exhausted as I am," Luhan adds, mumbling the words out as he presses his face into the sheets, mere centimeters away from his friend.

Kris ruffles his already ruffled hair and kisses his head despite knowing how it annoys the former model.

"Okay," Kris says, and then there's silence.

No one talks, but Luhan is thinking and he knows it will take Kris a while before he relaxes enough to sleep.

"It's not wrong for you to still love him and want to forgive him," Kris tells him.

Luhan hesitates for only a moment recalling the pain of being lied to and treated like a fool. "I never said I loved him," he replies.

********

Satisfaction. Luhan feels an overwhelming sense of satisfaction as reporters swarm around him outside the entrance of Nessen. It’s been four days since he’d told President Kim about his plan, and he was succeeding. He was back to being the tabloids most talked about celebrity, back to being in the center of the world’s attention, even if that meant something less prestigious than it sounded.

The reporters plead for comments, for things they can write about, or twist into something interesting. They ask about his partying, his love life. They mention Kai and Sehun, curious about the fate of the younger two careers and his relationship with them. He hears a nondescript voice shout something about a leaked rumor, but he keeps his expression as neutral as possible as he enters the company.

The reporters continue to surround him for the next two days, searching for answers he’ll never give.

Then they’re gone. On the fourth day, not a soul surrounds him during his brief walk to the company building, and no questions are shouted at him. He’d thought he’d be upset about going back to being Luhan Executive Director, but he finds himself too busy to care.

Luhan spends the two weeks after the reporters’ disappearance running on the fuel of pills both illegal and prescribed to get him through the days of shadowing President Kim, and the nights sleeping in Kris’s guestroom.

In between the meetings, the financial projects, and everything else, he focuses his time on helping Minseok. Luhan finds himself becoming reacquainted with the Red Light District, divulging deeper into the illegal happenings of the district more so than ever before.

It’s a late Wednesday evening when Kris pulls him out of his man-made sea of work and distraction.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Kris tells him.

Luhan can’t help the quirk of his lips, and the raise of his eyebrows. “You do realize how ironic it is for you of all people to be telling me this, right?”

“I’ve had years of overworking myself,” Kris says, smiling as he speaks. “doing anything less would make me feel lazy."

Kris walks deeper into the room to take a seat on Luhan's bed. "Why are you killing yourself for him," Kris asks, there's an edge to his words.

"Don't be so dramatic," Luhan retorts.

"Really," Kris presses. "You don't owe him anything regardless of what you may have promised him."

"I know that," Luhan says. He turns in his chair to face Kris. "When have I ever helped a person that wasn't you or the others?" The others are five other people he deems important to him, four now with Sehun's departure.

"Never," Kris says.

"Exactly," Luhan says. "You've seen how I've treated other people, and look at me now. I promised him I'd help, but my feelings are still all over the place. If I stop for just a moment, if I really give myself time to think, I might decide he deserves whatever he gets for using me and being an Imperfect, or worse. I might do the same as Sehun."

He sits up in his seat to meet Kris’s eyes. “Look, I'm almost done planning everything out, and once I give him this I'll be back to normal." Kris frowns, but he doesn't say anything.

"Did you just get in," Luhan asks, eyes now sweeping the length of Kris's body. "Is my being here cutting into your sex life?"

"Shut up, Luhan," Kris says glaring at the former model.

"I won't say anything if you brought him home, this is your home after all. Besides if this place is built anything like President Kim's, you could bed the world's loudest screamer and I wouldn't hear a thing," Luhan says. "Is Chanyeol a screamer, Kris?"

"You can go back to work," Kris says, standing and still glaring down at him. Luhan grins in return and turns back to his desk. He sits back in his chair, looking towards the packet on the desk beside his paperwork. He was running low on the "Perfect" pills, and he wasn't sure about making the trip back to the brothel.

He could feel himself developing a dependency on the pills, and he’d seen others and the way they put their addictions above everything else, including themselves, it had always made him cautious about falling down the same hole.

He needed himself awake and aware now more than ever because besides Kris, the only person looking out for himself was himself.

********

There’s a dullness to the day. A muteness to the colors around him like the sky and sun has begun fading in shades. Even the rumble of noise, from the city around him to the space inside his car, seems quieted. Minseok sits beside him in his car, hands clutching the food container in his lap so tightly that it has begun to bend. His eyes are staring out at the city, and Luhan wonders if he feels it too.

 “Do you have an ID number,” Luhan finally asks, batting away his distracted thoughts.

Minseok looks up at him, an eyebrow arched in question. “An ID Implant,” Luhan clarifies, eyes traveling to Minseok’s wrist.

“No,” Minseok says with a shake of his head. “The one I got before disintegrated over time, and I never bothered to get a replacement since President Kim figured out what I was.”

“I found someone that could do it for you,” Luhan says. “He’s supposedly really good, former CNS tech turned rogue.”

“Former CNS,” Minseok repeats with a skeptical frown.

Luhan shrugs his shoulders, “People don’t usually give their entire backstories when they’re dealing illegal things. He can be trusted.”

Minseok nods and mutters a soft, “okay.”

“The problem is the escort,” Luhan says with a grimace. “I found a guy, but he’s only willing to get you as far as the wastelands, and it’ll take a month at best. I have an emergency alternative, but there’s no way they can take you to an active compound.”

“I don’t want to go to a compound,” Minseok says. Luhan looks at him, really looks at him for the first time and finds his eyebrows furrowing in question. Minseok doesn’t look ill, he doesn’t look as if he’s lost out on sleep, but there is a difference now. Luhan can’t pinpoint it. It’s so obscure, Luhan’s not even sure if it’s really there.

“Your parents,” Luhan says.

“I won’t be able to find them,” Minseok says. “We didn’t discuss where they were going, they didn’t even know where they were going. Besides, I don’t want to trade one extreme for the next.”

“Do you know where you want to go,” Luhan asks. Minseok gives him a solemn nod of his bed.

“I can send you the general coordinates later,” Minseok says.

“Then I’ll have you away from him in a month,” Luhan says, starting the car. He can feel Minseok’s gaze hot on his skin, but he ignores it. Focusing his attention on driving and nothing more. He feels raw, like his nerve endings are connected to his emotions and any type of interaction with Minseok will cause them to alight.

Minseok grabs his arm, once they’re back in the Nessen’s parking deck. Hands clasped on his bicep in a loose grip. Luhan should pull away. He really should draw back, his emotions are heightened and he knows he could do something stupid, promise something dumb. Luhan doesn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” Minseok breathes out, and it’s so low Luhan isn’t sure if he’d actually said anything. He continues speaking, his voice getting stronger as he continues on. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I knew it was cruel of me from the beginning to be with you under such falsities. I was just afraid of my feelings for you, and President Kim, and your hatred for Imperfects.” He bites his bottom lip and glances up at Luhan in a contemplative manner.

“Just… thank you. You could have reported me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had, but you chose to help me.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Luhan states.

“I know,” Minseok says. “I still want to thank you, because I’m sure if you had tried you could have thought of something else, something that made you feel less guilty, or less of whatever emotion that’s fueling you to help me. Thank you, Luhan.”

Minseok lets go of Luhan’s arm and leaves the car just as Luhan’s phone starts to ring, and Luhan does his best not to sigh in relief.

“Hello,” Luhan says, not bothering to check who is calling him. There’s nothing at first, only the soft hum of static, and Luhan frowns, ready to end the call, just as a cracking voice speaks his name.

“Yixing,” Luhan asks, frowning. It sounds like the younger male, but it also doesn’t.

“I,” Yixing says, stopping. “Can you… I need you to come here… to me, Luhan.” He’s speaking in fragments, like his words have been cut and pasted together in an unnatural manner.

“Where are you,” Luhan asks, attempting to keep the alarm from his voice. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Yixing says, his voice cracking once more. Luhan can hear him breathe in a deep, stuttering breath. “I’m at the… ha-hospital on the outskirts of the city.”

“Where’s Junmyeon,” Luhan asks next, starting his car as he does so.

“Shit,” Yixing breathes out. “Luhan, please, just… come here, quickly.”

“Okay,” Luhan says, “I’m coming, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit hurried, sorry about that.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains mentions of blood, and death. This chapter also features a panic attack at the end.

In the lightest of traffic, abiding all proper driving laws, it takes a good two hours to get to Yixing’s location. Luhan gets there in under ninety minutes.

On the outskirts of the city, down the narrowed asphalt road from the city’s inspection office, stood in all its imposing glory Capital City’s sole hospital. With multiple levels above and below ground, and secret entrances and passageways, calling it just a hospital was a crass understatement. Known simply amongst civilians as _The Institution_ , it’s here that every scientist and physician, that didn’t have their own office in a more commercial district, worked. His mother was implanted with the gene here, he was born here, both his parents had died here, and he was sure Minseok had been brought here once.

The dread keeps him rooted in place, staring at the beige building with dark slits for windows, but the worry pushes him forward and inside. His steps make the slightest of noise as he walks into the entrance hall, stepping deeper into the open space. The smell of disinfectant cleaning agents stings his nose and numbs his brain as he stands and waits in the too clean, too bright, too empty room.

There are three doors opposite him, and a memory of being led through the door closest to the left the two times he’d come with his father surfaces.

He hears the steps before he sees the person and he turns towards the middle door just as it slides apart and a woman approaches, her shoes echoing with every step. The woman has her brunette hair in a bun, and a long white coat covers most of her outfit. In one hand is a black tablet which she types away at in a languid manner using her other hand.

 “How may I assist you today, sir,” she asks in the crisp tone Luhan has associated with physicians and scientists.

“I’m looking for a man,” he answers, “Zhang Yixing. CNS First-Class, Codename Lay.” The woman doesn’t say a word as she begins typing the information into her tablet. A frown graces her otherwise controlled features moments later.

She looks up to him for the first time, blinking her hazel eyes, and breathing in deeply through her nose. “Follow me,” she commands, turning swiftly on her heels and walking off, back through the parting white doors she had emerged from and into a just as brightly lit corridor.

********

Luhan notices the blood first. His hands are stained red, and flecks of it coat his face and highlight his hair. His head is pressed against the wall behind him, and his gaze is far off as if he is watching something behind the pair of them.

“What’s wrong with him,” Luhan asks, glaring at the woman that brought him to Yixing in accusation.

“Nothing external,” the woman replies, she’s back to frowning down at her device. “We want to give him a more thorough checkup, but he has refused to move.”

Luhan steps in front of the younger male, squatting down so that they can be at eye level. Yixing eyes are bloodshot. “Yixing,” he mutters, fingers attempting to rub the drying blood off his face. “What happened,” he asks in a whisper.

Yixing’s unfocused eyes snap to him, but instead of responding he slaps Luhan’s hand away and leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clutching onto his messy hair. He doesn’t say a word, but Luhan watches as his teeth clamp down hard on his split bottom lip, and a dribble of blood blossoms.

Luhan draws back a bit and stands, he doesn’t want to take his eyes off Yixing, doesn’t want to leave the younger male in such a state, but he has questions. He turns towards the woman with reluctance, “Junmyeon, First-class, Codename Suho. Where is he?”

The woman types the information in quickly, and then raises her gaze, a grim look in her eyes as she looks towards Yixing. Luhan turns his head to look at his friend as well. The Perfect’s head is still being supported by his hands, and Luhan feels the dread return.

“Follow me,” she says stiffly. Luhan’s eyes linger on Yixing, he doesn’t want to leave, he wants to stay and comfort his friend, but he needs to know what has caused his friend to behave in such a way.

She leads him through more corridors, all empty and bare until they’re standing in front of a gray door. The door to the room slides open as soon as Luhan’s escort finishes keying in the passcode, and a burst of cold exits, leaving Luhan’s arms with trails of goose pimples in its wake.

Luhan follows her inside as the lights flicker on one-by-one with the softest clicking noise until they’re bathed in the bright white. He takes a look around the room, stopping when his eyes catch sight of the bed, no, the table in the middle of the room.

He shuffles backward, crashing into the door behind him, heart rate picking up, and stomach quivering in nausea. He forces his eyes away from the table to the woman in front of him. She’s looking at him with something he can only describe as professional disapproval, but as their eyes meet she begins talking.

“It happened in action,” she intones, voice low, yet still stiff and formal. “The pair were in pursuit of a group of rebels by the docks, Special Agent Kim was shot in the chest. He died almost instantly.”

Luhan pushes off the door and moves forward, steps as heavy as his heart feels. He wants to leave, to grab Yixing, and never come back to this place. He doesn’t turn away. Instead, he pushes down the despair, and tries to grasp onto something else within him, something hopeful and light, but those emotions don’t exist. So he focuses on logic, on the desire in him to confirm that it’s actually a case of mistaken identity, or possibly some grotesque trick to show him his anger at being lied to was childish when things like this could occur.

Luhan gets to the table and steels himself, gripping the thin white sheet with a surprisingly steady hand. He pulls it back as he exhales, and the breath gets caught in his throat as he nearly whimpers at the sight. Junmyeon’s eyes are closed, a hint of blood that no one bothered to clean away has dried onto the corner of his lips. He’s cold, colder than any person, any living person should be. His hair is still soft to the touch, and Luhan runs his hand through the brunette strands as he blinks away the tears at the edge of his eyes.

“Were—were they caught,” Luhan asks. His voice cracking a bit at the question, fingers still caressing the soft locks of hair to keep from embracing the too cold body, or running out of the room.

“One was apprehended,” the woman replies. Luhan looks down again, eyes searing the image of Junmyeon cold and unconscious to his brain, as he continues pushing down the emotions within him. He’s glad for the woman’s presence in the room, but he also hates it, hates that he’s forced to control his emotions in such a situation.

He draws away from Junmyeon with even more reluctance than he had felt for Yixing. It feels like a betrayal to do so, to leave Junmyeon lying on a table in this cold room. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say to fix this. Junmyeon is lying there because he’s passed the point of help, but with every step, he takes away from his friend’s motionless body it feels as if he’s throwing his friend away.

“Take me back to his partner.”

********

Luhan doesn’t bother turning the radio on during the car ride back into the city. It is only a matter of time, before the news breaks and Luhan doesn’t want to hear his friend’s death used as political propaganda like it will eventually be.

Without any sound, the car ride is a quiet yet stifling affair. Yixing is withdrawn, lost in his own mind as he stares in a daze at the cityscape before them. Luhan is no better, as he drives further from the Institution, he feels a pressure against his back. It still feels wrong to him, leaving Junmyeon behind in that cold empty room, driving away from the man he’d known for over a decade. He tries to focus on the cars around him, the road signs, and street lights, but images of Junmyeon’s cold lifeless body flashes behind every blink of his eyes. It takes every bit of his willpower to keep from pulling over and shouting at the haunting presence he feels.

When they finally reach his apartment, Luhan busies himself. He directs Yixing to the shower, and then calls Kyungsoo and Kris, demanding the pair to hurry over to his home. Once out of the apartment, he goes back to the car garage and stares down at the blood staining his interior, he feels nauseated once more as he recalls that it is Junmyeon’s blood in his car. He puts in an order to have the car cleaned, and returns to his apartment when there’s nothing left for him to do.

The bathroom is steamy when Luhan enters it, but he can make out Yixing’s red flushed body through the slight fog and condensation on the shower glass. He raps his knuckles against it, and then opens the door. The blood on Yixing’s hands is gone, yet on his face specks of it remain, as well as in his hair. He pauses for a moment, unsure of what to do or say, but then he pushes forward stepping with bare feet into the shower. He’s fully clothed, and the searing water turns him a blushing pink upon contact with his skin, but he reaches out grabbing his untouched shampoo as Yixing stares at him with glossy brown eyes.

********

Yixing sits on his couch, clean hands buried in clean hair, and Luhan leans against the wall nearest to the tall glass windows of his apartment, occasionally glaring at the skyline when looking at Yixing gets to be too much.

The sound of his apartment door opening breaks him out of his thoughts of contemplation as Kris walks into his living room, followed by Kyungsoo.

No one speaks at first, everyone just stares. It makes Luhan curious. He wonders if Junmyeon’s death has left him in a visible state of despair as it has Yixing. He wonders what the pair of them are thinking as their gazes move from Yixing to him, back and forth.

“What’s wrong,” Kris finally asks, breaking his gaze from Yixing to stare at Luhan.

Luhan doesn't know how to answer that with tact. He doesn’t know how to answer it at all, how to translate the sight of Junmyeon’s body cold and lifeless into words, or relay that woman’s tale of Imperfect rebels and gunshot wounds with Yixing sitting there so broken.

“Junmyeon’s dead,” Yixing whispers and in the otherwise silence of Luhan's apartment, it sounds clear and concise.

“What,” Kyungsoo asks, and Luhan finally looks at him. His eyes are wide and expressive. He looks confused and disbelieving at Yixing as if pleading to be told something different.

“We were on a mission, he defied protocol and now he's dead,” Yixing says, lifting his head to glare at Kyungsoo. It’s silent then, well almost silent. Yixing has gone back to looking at his lap, glaring down at it this time, while Kyungsoo falls into the seat beside him. Kris has yet to say a word, and if he has Luhan’s not sure he’s heard it. His breathing has begun to pick up, coming out in ragged breaths, and much quicker than what would be considered normal.

He pushes off the wall, breath caught in his throat, and stumbles his way out of the room. A hand clutches at his throat while the other pounds hard against his chest once he’s locked in his bathroom. His heart is beating too quickly, hammering away as if seconds away from jumping through skin and bone. He tries to control the breathing, but each breath comes out as a wheezing gasp. His head feels light, tethered to limbs too heavy to hold up.

He comes crashing to the ground as a disturbing thought surfaces from the panicked torrid state of his mind. He was going to die. His breathing seems to grow faster at the thought, slipping through his parted lips in a speed to match the pace of his heart.

His vision is beginning to blur around the edges. He tosses his head back, hitting it hard against a wall he had no idea was behind him. Nausea's beginning to climb up his throat, and he tries to swallow between the gasps of air, trying to push it down and away.

He is going to die, he can feel it, and the thought repeats itself in his mind. Lying on his bathroom floor, covered in his own vomit, he is going to die. While the rest of his friends sit in his living room, mourning the death of their friend, he’ll be here dying of asphyxiation. Dying of grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit dramatic at the end, but I had no idea how hard it would to write out a person with no knowledge of panic attacks having one. So, I figured someone with very little understanding of the science of their own body would assume they were dying in such a situation. Anyway, I start school next week and have zero idea how busy I'll be so I decided to update now.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

_I like this place Junmyeon said, hunching his shoulders up in defense as he glared at Luhan. Luhan had drawn his head back towards the younger male, lips tugged into a teasing grin, and eyes bright with amusement._

_“I haven’t said a thing,” he retorted, taking a sip of his bitter drink. “You always manage to find the most obscure places,” he continued, his eyes drawn towards the large multicolored vase behind Junmyeon’s head._

_“It’s peaceful,” Junmyeon replied in the quiet of the cafe, his honey brown eyes roamed along the cafe like Luhan had previously done, the red ceramic mug gripped tightly in his hand. “It’s like escaping the city for a moment.”_

_He’d turned his eyes back to Luhan, and Luhan had taken the chance to really look at the younger male. Junmyeon’s brunette hair was styled simple, his leather and steel watch stood out on his wrist, drawing attention every time the large timepiece caught lamplight. He had smiled when he noticed Luhan staring, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was a man of District One, a boy trying to appear older than he was, dressed in his expensive clothes. It had always bewildered Luhan. He didn’t understand how the children born into his world of power and money still looked as out of place as he felt. How were they unused to the only life they knew?_

_Luhan leaned forward, head cocked to the side and resting on his palm. “What did you need to tell me,” he asked. The fake smile on Junmyeon’s face had eased away as he looked into Luhan’s eyes._

_“I,” he begun, pausing a moment later to take a sip of his cappuccino. “I’m joining the security training program.”_

_Luhan had lifted his head from his palm at the statement, eyes wide as he stared at the teen in front of him. “You’re what,” he asked, pronouncing each word carefully. “Do your parents know?”_

_“Of course not,” Junmyeon retorted, glaring at Luhan as if the older male had threatened to tell his parents. “I’m not telling them,” he admitted. “I’ve done everything else they’ve wanted. I’m doing everything else they’ve wanted, but I don’t want to follow the family business. I’ve never wanted to, and now, after seeing all of you doing interesting things...” He trailed off._

_“Kris,” Luhan began only to cut himself off. Kris was a taboo topic to the group of them._

_“I don’t want to be Kris,” Junmyeon had replied sharply._

_“When do you...” Luhan trailed off, unsure of the proper terminology for being a CNS trainee, “start?”_

_“After the engagement party,” Junmyeon answered. “There’s no point in fighting with my parents about it if I don’t make it, so I won’t be telling them to the last minute, and,” there was a true smile on his face as he continued speaking. “And, I want to surprise Yixing.”_

_Luhan had sat back in his chair, his own smile appearing as he stared at his giddy friend. “Fine,” he huffed out in false annoyance. “I’ll take your secret to the grave if I must.”_

_A week after his final exam as a CNS trainee, Junmyeon and Luhan had attempted to find the small discreet cafe in District Four only to see that it had turned into a one-stop shop._

********

A knock on his window jerks him out of his thoughts, and he turns towards the shadowed figure asking for his attention.

“I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to get out of your car,” the familiar voice tells him. Luhan turns the car off, the click of the door unlocking loud in the silent night. The figure moves away and he exits the vehicle, using the faintest city lights to look at the man in front of him.

“I don’t think I was,” he says, following the male into the bright house. “I was in the neighborhood.” The lights hurt his eyes as he tries to get adjusted to them, and his throat burns with every word spoken but he’d gotten used to the pain after his breakdown in his bathroom. He wasn’t even supposed to be out. Kris had found him and helped him through what he’d called an attack of some sort, and had put him to bed with a command to rest.

“Doing what,” he’s asked, as they stop inside the kitchen. Luhan reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the pills he bought hours ago, giving it to the man in front of him. The bottle is examined, and the man frowns at him handing the pills back to Luhan. “You’re taking illegal pills now?”

“Anything to survive right,” Luhan replies. “Everyone else has that mindset, so I figured I’d adapt it as well.” There’s silence for a moment, confused eyes stare at him trying to read him and Luhan looks back, waiting.

“What’s wrong,” he’s asked.

“There’s a lot wrong, Minseok,” Luhan retorts. “The world is going to shit right before my very eyes, or are you asking about something specific?” Nothing is said, so Luhan continues. “I think Kris is dating an Imperfect.” He stares across from Minseok waiting for a response or some kind of reaction to his words, but Minseok simply stares back at him.

“The first time I got those pills, someone had stopped in front of my car, he was having a fit or something. I think that’s the man Kris is seeing,” Luhan explains. “I think Kris knows.”

“What am I supposed to do,” Minseok asks, finally handing the bottle of pills back to Luhan.  “I don’t know every Imperfect in this city.”

“If I had looked, truly looked into you and your background, would I have figured it out,” Luhan asks.

“Maybe,” Minseok admits. “I didn’t hide it as well as I should have. It’s too expensive to do so, and I’m sure you have the means and techniques to find a flaw in the most well-vetted profiles.”

“Then he knows,” Luhan says. “I’ll have to tell him regardless. There are not many things crueler than a close friend not telling you that the person you’ve cared so deeply about is hiding a huge secret like that. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t.”

Minseok’s eyes close, and the breath he draws in is long and deep. When he opens his eyes, he’s looking at Luhan’s ear rather than staring in his eyes. “Why are you here Luhan, why do you look like you’ve been crying?” His hand reaches up on instinct, pressing the pads of his fingertips just below his eyes. He’d thought he’d looked exhausted, sleep deprived, and stressed, but not as if he was crying.

“I haven’t,” Luhan says. The tears shed hadn’t been on purpose, so that wasn’t actually crying, was it?

“Okay,” Minseok says, still refusing to meet his eyes, “but you haven’t answered my questions. Why are you here? Why do you look the way you look?”

“I needed to see you,” Luhan replies, he feels the mask slipping and so he adverts his eyes as well, staring at the wallpapered wall behind Minseok’s head. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Minseok says, and Luhan can feel the burn of his gaze on his skin.

“I really do,” Luhan presses, “you’ve hurt me. You’ve used me, and you honestly deserve whatever you’re fated for.”

“I agree,” Minseok says softly.

“But,” Luhan starts. “I needed to see you. You’re...” He stops and swallows. There’s a hickory wood table in the rather large kitchen and Luhan takes a seat. His fingers trace the polished surface, thoughts racing around his head much too quickly for him to even sort through them.

“Have you ever seen a dead body before,” Luhan asks, “I never seen one. Not up close, that is.” There’s a dip in the wood of the table and Luhan sticks his nail into it as he continues to speak.

“When my father died, they only allowed me to look through a glass window at a sheet covered body that was supposed to be him. He’d died when I was in school, had some type of lung trouble at work and was sent to the _Institution_. When I got there, I waited 45 minutes and then some man came out and told me he was dead and led me to the window so that I could see for myself. They don’t get funerals. He was cremated two hours later and I didn’t even get to see the ashes, they probably tossed them in the trash right after.”

Minseok moves away from the kitchen counter, moving to stand behind Luhan. Luhan waits, nail digging into the crevice of the wood with more urgency as he feels the presence at his back. When a hand clasps down, light and barely there, on his shoulder he continues speaking.

“They’re so cold,” he states. “I knew that when they died their eyes go blank from seeing the executions, but they are unnaturally cold. Why do they get cold like that? I’ve seen death before you know. I know what it is but I don’t understand it, Minseok. I––

He cuts himself off as the hand on his shoulder grips him tighter. “Calm down,” he hears and it makes him want to laugh. He’d been trying to calm himself down for the past few hours. He leans forward, resting his head in his hands and breathes in a deep broken breath. He doesn’t know how to tell Minseok his confusion, doesn’t know how to explain that the idea of someone being there physically but so cold and unresponsive was what confused him. That is the part of death he doesn’t understand.

“Who died,” Minseok asks him, both hands now gripping his shoulders as he speaks each word slowly.

The heels of his hand dig into his burning eyes, and his voice cracks as he whispers the name to Minseok, “Junmyeon.”

********

The sun creeps past the trees in front of Minseok’s house, golden light surrounding them. There’s a part of Luhan, so minor that he’s able to push it down, that feels guilty at having Minseok out here with him. There’s an even greater part that feels the same churning vindictiveness at Minseok, believes that Minseok can at least sit here with him after leading him on, and unknowingly having the help of Junmyeon in his charade. The greatest emotion he feels, the one that allows him to rest his head on Minseok’s shoulder as the sun continues to rise is gratefulness. He’s thankful that Minseok’s willing to sit outside in silence with him, watching the dawn approach as he sorts through his thoughts and emotions.

“It’s unfair,” Luhan proclaims, his voice sounds raspy as he speaks. “I always thought this was a possibility. I don’t think anyone is naive enough to have their friends go into one of the most dangerous professions and believe that they’ll come out completely alright. I always figured I’d hear that one of them died in some faraway place I’d never heard of, yet he goes and gets himself killed in this shit-hole.”

Minseok holds his hand, and Luhan grips it tighter.

“His death is being used as propaganda as we speak,” Luhan says. “And, I can already imagine the circus that will be his memorial service. It’ll be televised so the whole world can play along like they knew Junmyeon when they didn’t. They didn’t know that he hated District One as much as I did, probably more than I did because that was all he was taught to know. People think he’s never returned home because of the shame of his fiancé leaving him, but it was more than that. He hated those functions, hated his family business, and had forgiven his fiancé the moment she’d left him. I don’t even think Yixing knew just how much Junmyeon loved him. He could have chosen any other job to rebel against his parents, but he chose to work for the CNS because Yixing had chosen it.”

The wet warmth of tears glide against his cheeks and drop onto Minseok’s shoulder as Luhan closes his eyes, his head’s pounding from a pain he’s unable to trace. All his ugly emotions resurface once more as his tears escape through the hard press of his eyes. The feeling from his breakdown in the bathroom returns, but it’s less intense, less consuming. He feels as if there’s something trying to claw out through his throat, as if all those emotions within him have formed a monster trying to rip out of his body, and he wants to let it go. He wants it out of his body, whatever it is that’s inside him, but he doesn’t know how to remove it.

“I forgive you,” he says into the early morning light. The monster is still there underneath his skin, but it settles down a bit at the statement. Minseok moves beside him, but Luhan holds harder onto his hand.

“Don’t do that thing you do,” Luhan says. “Don’t try to be understanding, don’t say I don’t have to, don’t speak a word.” He’s unsure of if what he says is true, but it feels real and honest, and he doesn’t care how pathetic it might make him.

“I forgive you,” he repeats, this time for himself and not for Minseok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you've waited a long time. I honestly got so busy with school and work and for the longest time thought I was done with writing, but I'm not. I will eventually finish this even if I lose all my readers due to inconsistent updates and failing quality.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four

It feels like hours before Luhan finally speaks again. The sun, now higher in the sky, is warm against his skin, yet the street and surrounding area are just as quiet as it had been in the dark of the night.

“I want to hide you away,” He says, “All of you. Sehun and Tao too. Until this-everything–is over.”

A soft cooling breeze blows in intervals, whistling to fill the lack of sound around them. “One side will have to win eventually,” Minseok says. “Your side will win. The Red Devils are putting up a decent fight, but you have the power and weaponry to destroy them. And then… Do you think those in charge will keep us alive after that? They’ve killed most of us off before the Red Devils even existed. They’ll eradicate us completely to prevent another chance of rebellion.”

“I know that,” Luhan says, and he does.  He has never been naive about the Imperfect struggle even if he had ignored it for most of his life. “That’s why. Things will get worse, and I don’t want to see others hurt.”

********

District Eight remains frozen in time under the aureate sun. Like a sleepy town that has not quite woken, not a soul roams the streets. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant hums of unseen traffic as Luhan drives through familiar roads. The brick and mortar school of Luhan’s youth obscures the sun from view as he passes it. The decrepit field adjacent to the two-level building bears an emptiness that suggests years without playful students, and the shadowed schoolhouse windows hint at a lack of life behind the brick walls.

It’s all a little too much for Luhan, and the former model finds himself speeding through the rest of the district, not failing to notice how the city brightens and comes to life as he crosses the bridge away from the more residential side.

********

Luhan leans his head back, bathing his face in the warmth of the sun that filters through the window beside him. His heart drums within him. It reminds him that he’s broken, inherent Imperfect traits that were never eliminated combined with the side effects of withdrawal, pulling him further away from being the ideal Perfect.

He hears the smallest of noises, prompting him to draw his head forward, heavy eyelids opening closed eyes to meet with Kris’s narrowed ones. He stares as Kris speaks, watches as the taller male’s lips move to words Luhan can’t hear over the buzzing in his ears. The buzzing had begun when Luhan had first entered the building, growing louder and more persistent as he got closer to his apartment door.

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, forcing the sound back and his thoughts away.

“Are you okay, Luhan?” The thick brows above Kris’s eyes are drawn together, and the corners of his lips are pulled down just a bit.

Luhan nods his answer, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, and it sounds nothing like the scratchy cowardly sound he feared might escape from his lips. “What did you say?”

The corners of Kris’s lips tug further downward, as the hand on his shoulder applies a bit more pressure. “Let’s go inside,” Kris suggests, his voice soft and coaxing, and Luhan allows himself to be led inside the apartment.

“I told you to stay inside and rest,” he states, as Luhan takes a seat once they’re in his kitchen. “You shouldn’t have been driving after your attack.”

“I’m not weak,” Luhan says, it lacks the bite it would typically have, just like Kris’s words lack the strong disapproval. “You couldn’t have expected me to stay here after everything.”

Kris doesn’t respond, he places a glass of water in front of Luhan and takes a seat across from him. “Where did you go?”

“To Minseok’s,” he admits. It’s easy to say now that he’s been a bit more honest with himself. “I thought he deserved to know from an actual person rather than through the bits of exaggerated gossip he’d hear it from otherwise. They helped him, after all.”

“You’ve been there the entire night,” Kris asks him, and Luhan shakes his head in answer.

“Kris,” he starts off, he tries to fight the grimace that’s threatening to cross his face. He’s unsure if now is the time to bring up Chanyeol’s status as a possible Imperfect, but he thinks that if he’d been given the same courtesy he’d have wanted to know sooner rather than later. There was never a right time to discuss such a thing. “You’d have told me, right? If you knew Minseok was an Imperfect, you’d have told me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kris replies. “You still haven’t forgiven them for lying?”

“No,” Luhan replies, a weak smile taking over his features. “They hadn’t actually apologized though, have they? It doesn’t matter much now anyway, there are more important things to worry about, so I’m letting it go.” He pauses then, and stares at Kris. He wants to take in his every move and action. “You know, don’t you,” he asks. “About Chanyeol and what he’s really hiding.”

Kris’s expression closes off as he stares across the table, the curiosity in his eyes seeping away. “Yes,” he states after a moment, and Luhan can hear both the caution and threat in his voice. Luhan stares as well, taking in the squared jaw and set shoulders, he’s curious about what’s going through Kris’s mind, but he decides not to press it.

“Okay,” he finally says, taking a sip from his water. His smile strengthens as he continues to speak. “So, we’re all just going around falling in love with Imperfects,” he adds with a laugh. “I guess it’s a testament to our fucked-up upbringing.”

“You’re really okay with this,” Kris asks, the caution still in his voice.

“Not entirely, no,” Luhan admits, “but I’d be a hypocrite otherwise, and I’m mostly just happy that you already knew. It would be rather pathetic if we were both being used by Imperfects, wouldn’t it?”

“So, you and Minseok,” Kris says, dragging the question out.

“I’ve forgiven him,” Luhan states. “We’re not… we’re really not anything and I don’t think it’s possible for us to be anything again. He’s leaving, and I can’t keep him from that. Now that Junmyeon’s dead, it will only become more dangerous for him.”

The frown makes an appearance once more, and Luhan grins to himself as he looks down towards the table, fingers tapping a beat to a song he can’t recall.

“Have you eaten,” Kris asks. Luhan spares a glance back up. Kris is leaning back into his chair, and both of his hands have disappeared out of sight.

“Not hungry,” he mutters.

“How are you feeling,” Kris asks next, causing a frown to appear on Luhan’s own lips.

“Like I’ve been hit by a train,” he admits, sighing as he does so. “I’m tired. I feel like I can crawl into bed and sleep for a week, but I’m too wound up for that.”

“I figured as much,” Kris says. “I tried to get here as early as I could, only to find out that you’d run off.” He lifts his left hand and slides something across the table to Luhan.

Luhan looks from the package of sleeping pills to his friend, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I thought you didn’t approve of pills bought off the black market.”

“I don’t,” Kris admits, “but you’ve taken those with no side effects, and you need the sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Luhan says after a moment. It’s the second or third time he’s said that within the hour, and it flusters him with how easy they come when they were always so hard to say before.

“For what,” Kris asks.

“For being such an ass to you,” Luhan says. “I know what they forced on you. I knew what you’ve been through, but I’ve been a jerk ever since, haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” Kris agrees. “You have. I always knew why you acted that way…” he pauses as soon as Luhan flinches. “Why are you suddenly being introspective, Lu?”

“I spent the night thinking of our past,” Luhan admits. “I’ve been thinking of the past a lot lately, but last night I thought about everything, even the uglier things that I thought I forced myself to forget. Death’s supposed to do that to you, right? I think I read that somewhere.”

“Get some sleep, Luhan,” Kris commands, nodding to the pills. “I won’t leave until you do.”

Luhan opens the bottle, depositing two pills into his hand and pushes the bottle back over to Kris.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” he declares, “but try not to forget that you need sleep as well.”

********

Luhan wakes to silence and his room glowing from the sun. He’s disoriented at first until the memories rush back. A groan slips passed his lips, as he rolls onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands against his closed eyes, forcing himself awake. He sits up in bed as he tries to organize his thoughts.

“Junmyeon’s dead,” he says aloud. That’s the most important detail. Everything is currently centered around that fact. Junmyeon’s gone and he won’t be coming back. There will be a memorial in his honor to commemorate him for his service, and because he’s the youngest son of one of the most powerful families in the country. He will be cremated, he may have already been cremated, Luhan’s not sure what day it is. Ashes and a picture will be placed in the family crypt for private mourners close to the family, and his service picture will be placed somewhere in _Memorial Hall_ , the place where all of those that have died for the greater good is worshiped and mourned by the public.

As for Yixing, Luhan doesn’t know what to do about Yixing. He’d stumbled through heavy tomes in foreign languages about grief on sleepless nights. However, he’d never helped a Perfect through grief before, doesn’t know if they experience the seven _whatevers_ that were associated with grief. Besides, he’d be useless, he can barely get through his own problems, he doubts he could help any other soul.

Minseok’s presence was another weighing heavy on his mind currently. While they may all be grieving, Minseok was in more danger than ever before. Junmyeon was murdered by Imperfects, and Luhan knows what that will mean for the remaining Imperfects within the city. They won’t be safe, there will be stricter regulations, more than identification codes and tracking devices. Most Capital City Imperfects were lucky in some ways. Imperfects were commodities to the wealthy elite, and many businessmen have investments in the shadier parts of the city. That would mean nothing now. Junmyeon was nearly as elite as a person could be within this country. His life was more important than revenue loss, and his death will be as well. His death will be used as full on propaganda, and not a soul will be able to go against any laws enacted in his honor, without seeming to go against the state. Luhan will have to get Minseok out of the city as soon as possible, and Kris will need to do something about Chanyeol.

He exits his room, his arms stretched high above his head as he tries to shake the heavy fatigue out of his bones. Kris sits up, from his position on Luhan’s couch, watching him with tired eyes. “You’re awake,” he states. as Luhan steps deeper into the living room.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “what time is it?”

“Seven,” Kris says. “You’ve slept for nearly twenty-four hours.”

“And you haven’t slept at all,” Luhan says, frowning his concern.

“I have,” Kris replies. “I tried to,” he clarifies when Luhan glares at him.

“What have I missed,” Luhan asks.

“The cremation ceremony is today,” Kris says. “It will be closed off and held at the family’s main estate off the coast of Starfall this evening.”

Luhan grimaces, nothing Kris says comes as a surprise but it’s still something that Junmyeon would have never wished for. His friend had only traveled to the main estate once and although Junmyeon had spoken his love for the surrounding area, vibrant and stunning in the warmth of summer, he’d never actually liked the estate.

“And Yixing,” he asks.                                       

“We’ve gotten him to change hotels,” Kris says. “He’s…We’re taking turns checking in on him. He’s a shell, Lu. He’s not really there and it’s terrifying. I don’t know what to do.” Luhan thinks back to how Yixing had first looked, caked in blood that wasn’t his own, unresponsive, and eyes distant as if he was reliving the moment again and again.

“I don’t think you can do anything,” Luhan says. “It’s something he’ll have to get through on his own, and Perfects, they’re genetically inclined to hide their emotions and he’s had training on top of that.”

“We are,” Kris interrupts.

“What,” Luhan asks, turning his head to stare at his friend, confusion clear on his features.

“ _We are_ genetically inclined to hide our emotions,” Kris explains, “you and I are Perfects too, even if we’re not completely like the others.”

Luhan laughs. “We are,” he agrees. “How’s Kyungsoo?”

“I don’t know,” Kris says. “With a father like his, I doubt anyone will know how he’s feeling. We’re lucky he allows us to see the few emotions he graces us with.” Luhan hums his agreement, and leans back in the seat, thinking of his former manager. Junmyeon was like an older brother to Kyungsoo. They spent the most time together in their childhood, had the same tutors, and similar expectations were placed on them. Their friendship was a friendship that was conceived long before their birth. Their mothers were of similar class and values, and their upbringing differed greatly from Yixing’s more relaxed childhood, Kris’s motherless childhood, and Luhan’s very own adopted childhood.

“I have Junmyeon’s things in the rear of my car, and I have no idea what to do with them,” Kris declares, tossing his head back and closing his eyes.

“Keep them until Yixing’s well enough to see it,” Luhan suggests. “He’s the sentimental type, he might want a few things.”

“It’s bizarre,” Kris states with a groan. Luhan doesn’t know if he’s referencing having Junmyeon’s things in his car, or the idea that Junmyeon’s not there anymore and won’t be coming back. Either way, he agrees. It’s strange, Junmyeon’s gone. His heart has stopped, his eyes have lost the spark of life, the blood in his veins has run dry, he’s no longer a physical being. Yet his presence is still felt, his things remain, there are places that hold memories of him. Like with his father, there will be scents and sights that incite the familiarity he once felt with his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot of dialogue. This fanfic will officially end this summer after 3 years and a ton of hiatuses. I adore this world, but I'm still unsure if I will do anything else with it once this story is over.
> 
> Fun fact: You can reach me on my fanfic sideblog at Binderwriting.tumblr.com I've had it for a while, and just kind of forgot about it.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five

Reporters surround him the moment he steps out of his car.  Groups of them push forcefully into him as they ask callous and invasive questions that Luhan does his best to ignore while each strives to take the best picture of him mourning to fill their internet gossip columns. The bright continuous flashes produced by the camera hurt his eyes, and he finds himself cringing as he pushes blindly through the crowd of people towards the company’s parking garage exit.

When Luhan at last, arrives at his office, it’s empty. For the first time since she’d started working for him, Joohyun isn’t awaiting him at her desk. It’s odd, but Luhan figures that the young assistant has finally gotten tired of the office with an inconsistent boss, and horrible hierarchical politics, and has taken a day off.

His personal office is in the near exact state he’d left it in. The cleaners have come through and there’s a sterility to the room, but its overall emptiness is due to it lacking the personal artifacts that tended to be found in many offices. The only thing out of place is the black notebook on his desk, and a quick flip through shows that it’s filled with memos Joohyun has written from the time he had never returned from lunch two days ago.

Two days ago, Luhan’s biggest concern had been meeting with Minseok and working through the conflicted feelings he had for the Imperfect, yet on the other side of the city, his closest friends were facing something that only one of them came back alive from.

A knock breaks him from his thoughts, and he closes the notebook. He walks around his desk and takes a seat, calling for his visitor to enter.

Joohyun opens the door, a plate in her hand as she walks deeper into the room. “Hello sir,” she says, placing the dish onto the desk. “Your friend, Mr. Wu, called and asked me to bring you a meal. He said you haven’t yet eaten and may forget to once you were in the office.” Luhan tries not to frown as he looks towards the meal. He wasn’t particularly hungry and it annoyed him to have Kris treating him as if he was incapable of heeding his body’s needs.

“Thank you, Joohyun,” he mutters, staring at the plate with triangle-cut sandwiches and a side dish of an unknown vegetable. He glances back up to the girl and notices her frown as she stares at him. He frowns back, raising an eyebrow in question.

It pulls her away from her thoughts and she drops her gaze, hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Kim Minseok wanted me to inform him if you made it in today,” she tells him. The frown slips away, and Luhan finds himself dropping his gaze to his desk and the plate in front of him to hide the surprise that seizes him.

“Right,” he says nodding slightly, hand reaching towards the black notebook still on his desk. “Please do so when you get the chance,” he says in dismissal.

The sandwich consists of a leafy pale green imitation lettuce and an imitation chicken. The real versions are rare and expensive for most people, although Luhan can recall Minseok mentioning that Nessen provided all employees with real meat and vegetables once a fortnight. He called it an incentive, something that made people want to work for the company. Luhan would trade all the real meat and vegetables in his home to not have to work another day as a Nessen employee. The lettuce tastes eerily like the real thing save for the strange aftertaste, while the chicken is much too rubbery for his liking. Despite the strangeness, he gets through a quarter of the meal as he works on the files and paperwork left for him.

Later in the day, Joohyun’s clear crisp voice breaks him out of his concentration as she speaks to him over her intercom. “Sir, Minseok is here,” she says.

Luhan looks down to the confidential proposal he was suffering through, groaning at the thought of needing to reread it, but closes it anyway, and presses one of the many buttons on his desk. “He can enter,” he says to the open air.

Less than a minute later his office door opens and Minseok steps through. Luhan looks him over as he walks pass the plush leather seats in the room to instead stand ramrod straight in front of Luhan’s desk. His shoulders are tight with tension, his hair is styled well, he looks healthy despite the tired lines in his face.

“How are you,” Minseok asks him, and Luhan stops trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he tries to busy himself with the things on his desk. He skims through Joohyun’s notebook once more as he struggles to find the answer to the question.

“Okay,” he decides at last. “I’m okay, given the circumstances.”

Minseok nods a little nod, his hand reaching into the pocket of his slacks. “And Yixing,” he asks next.

“… Worse,” Luhan replies. “I think. I haven’t seen him since that day, but he was bad then and I don’t think he’s gotten any better since. Minseok nods again, and then there’s silence. Minseok doesn’t say a word and Luhan tries his best to figure out how to ask Minseok why he’s there without coming across as rude or too hopeful.

Minseok manages to start talking once more before Luhan can come up with the right tone of voice. His eyes look over the room, refusing to meet Luhan’s as he speaks. “Do you know when the memorial will be,” he asks next.

Luhan shakes his head in answer. “Soon, they’re holding the private service today, and they’ll want to capitalize on his death as quickly as possible. Nothing like the death of an elite by enemy’s hands to really push forward an agenda.” Minseok flinches, it’s small and hardly visible, and Luhan only sees it because he’s staring too hard. He doesn’t look away though, even as he reprimands himself for his staring. Instead, he watches as the Imperfect finally pulls his hand out of his pocket, presenting the pills Luhan had forgotten about when he’d left Minseok’s home.

“I came by to give you these,” Minseok says, sliding the bottle across the desk.

“I thought you didn’t want me taking these,” Luhan replies, picking the pills up and placing them inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“I don’t have any say in what you do,” Minseok reminds him.

Silence returns then. Minseok fidgets restlessly, and Luhan wants to slam his head into his hands in exasperation. He doesn’t know why it’s so hard to hold a simple conversation when it used to come so easy for them even before they were together. He can take a guess at when they had both started feeling self-conscious in the others’ presence, but that didn’t mean he knew how to fix things.

“I’ll go,” Minseok says at last. Luhan looks up then, he’s unsure of when he’d stopped staring at Minseok. Despite the many thoughts in his head, one pushes forward demanding that he stop Minseok from leaving so they can work through the awkwardness that has manifested.

“Have lunch with me,” Luhan says on impulse. Minseok stops in his steps only feet away from the door. The unreadable look in his eyes has left as he turns and stares at Luhan, eyes wide and shoulders still tense.

“What,” Minseok asks in return, the confusion in his voice easy to be heard.

“Have lunch with me,” Luhan repeats with more confidence than before. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I know it’s your lunch hour, so accompany me. Please?”

********

They are in Luhan’s car again. It’s the only place they can have the type of conversations they now have without Luhan worrying that someone will overhear them. So, like a new found tradition, they sit in Luhan’s car on a near empty side street in District One. Minseok is tense, he hadn’t relaxed once since they’d walked out of the office together, and once again there’s a tension filled silence that envelops them.

“I mean what I said before,” Luhan says, speaking up first this time. He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes as he draws in a long deep breath.  “About forgiving you. I forgive you Minseok.” His teeth clamp down automatically as he struggles with his next words.

“I have for a while even though I pretended like I hadn't. You hurt me and lied to me, but I understand that you had your reasons and convictions and I forgive you for them.” His lips twitch a bit as he parts them into a small smile, glancing over to the male beside him.  “I thought I’d address that first since you looked like you expected me to take it back.”

Minseok doesn’t relax at Luhan’s proclamation, but he does lose the guarded look. “I thought it was just your grief speaking,” Minseok states.

“It was,” Luhan clarifies. “It doesn’t make it untrue, it just made it easier to admit to myself and aloud.”

Luhan doesn’t want to talk about the other things yet. It will inevitably change the mood and he feels as if he’s finally getting somewhere with Minseok. Minseok doesn’t look as if he’s ready to jump out of the car and run off, and Luhan doesn’t feel like slamming his head against something hard and damaging out of frustration. He knows that those feelings may return once he brings up his next concerns.

“You can’t get me out of the city, right,” Minseok guesses suddenly, causing Luhan’s small smile to slip.

Luhan focuses on the man beside him, eyes narrowed and the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown. “What,” he asks. “No, of course I can. I promised you and I won’t go back on that promise. It’s just that now, there are a few flaws with my plan.” He drops his gaze to the steering wheel, fingers gripping the hard leather as he’s reminded of just how difficult it will now be to get Minseok out of the city.

“What kind of flaws,” Minseok asks him. There’s a gentle touch to Luhan’s arm and the effect it has on him is almost scary as the pressure he feels in his limbs ease just the slightest.

“The escort is one thing,” Luhan states, “I planned to have Yixing and Junmyeon escort you out as a last resort, and now anyone leaving the city while we’re in mourning will be suspicious regardless of their status. Even with all my money, no one will want to risk it.”

 “I'll stay in the city then,” Minseok says, “till the mourning is over.” It sounds like a simple solution, but Luhan knows that things won’t be that easy.

“You can’t,” he says, darting a glance outside into the empty streets as if worried someone was out there attempting to catch them conspiring together. “I should have had you out of the city yesterday,” he says stretching the last word in emphasis.

“I’ll be fine,” Minseok declares, his voice is soothing and almost reassuring, but Luhan notices the way he stumbles over the last word, how it comes out more uncertain than it should.

“You won’t,” Luhan states. “You don’t understand. You have no idea what my side is planning, and I can almost guarantee you that the people that matter are in a meeting two streets over, attempting to figure out how quickly they can kill all Imperfects.”

Minseok doesn’t say a word after that. He sits back in his seat, eyes trained on the car’s glove compartment, bottom lip stuck between his teeth as he thinks.

“I have to...” Luhan trails off. “We have to figure out something.” He pauses then, his eyes widen as the solution comes to him with ease. “Move back in with me. You’ll be safe there until I can get you out.”

“No,” Minseok replies as he looks over to Luhan in disbelief.

“You’re safe at Nessen for the time being, and you’ll be safe if you move back in with me. We’re still together… in the media’s eyes, and we can use that to our advantage. Having you known as my lover may grant you more safety than otherwise since most people are aware that I’m not much of a fan of Imperfects. But, I’m worried that it can also work against you. They may treat you as a rebel if you’re caught just because you were involved with me. Staying with me removes that threat.”

Although it had been a spontaneous request, he felt that it was the smartest decision. Whatever new Imperfect regulations were implemented, they wouldn’t affect him and by extension, it wouldn’t affect anyone living in his home.

“I don’t want to live with you again, Luhan,” Minseok says each word with careful precision as if he’d been practicing that line for weeks. Minseok isn’t looking at him though, and Luhan turns away as well. His lips quirk in a deprecating manner at the hurt he suddenly feels.

“Okay,” he says, and although he tries, he’s aware it sounds bitter. “You don’t have to live with me, maybe you can stay with Jongin. District Eight will be dangerous for you.”

“That came out wrong,” Minseok sighs. “It’s not because of you. I mean, I didn’t hate living with you, Luhan. It’s just, it’s too much for me. You’re doing too much for me, and it’s so–“ he cuts himself off.

“It’s ‘so’ what, Minseok,” Luhan questions. “What am I doing that’s too much for you? You’re someone I care about, someone I never stopped caring about even when I swore I hated you and would never forgive you. How is it too much? I’m not asking you to marry me or anything, I’m just saying that you should move back in for a few weeks at most. You’re so close to having your freedom. Don’t risk things because you’re a little uncomfortable around me.”

It’s not about discomfort,” Minseok says voice low, He’s brushing the hair near his nape, combing fingers through the short strands in a way that Luhan remembers reflects his insecurities. Luhan doesn’t know how to tell Minseok it’s okay to show that side of him again, and he’s sure that a touch of comfort would be doing the opposite.

“You,” Minseok starts, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. “You’re so overwhelming. Everything you do, it’s overwhelming me with so much hope,” he nearly exclaims.  Luhan touches him then, hand placed over Minseok’s urging him to continue.

“I haven't hated you or disliked you since we've been apart. Aside from the regret, my feelings haven't changed in any significant way. Before, two days ago even, it was easy to keep the hope at bay because I told myself you were only doing this because you detested me so desperately, and wanted me out of your sight. Your words made it easier for me to think like that. But now… I know I shouldn’t hope for much. I lied to you and led you on, and I know that your best friend just died and you still want me out of the city, but I can’t help it. When you’re sitting beside me pleading for me to stay with you again, and telling me you forgive me, I have hope for us.” Minseok says all of this with his eyes on their joined hands and flushed a pink so bright that it almost causes Luhan to smile.

“You’ve never talked to me like this before,” Luhan states, hand gently squeezing Minseok’s in comfort. “You’ve never really told me your innermost thoughts, your worries, your fears, and desires.”

“I was afraid,” Minseok states, “and sometimes didn’t feel like I could because I was lying to you.”

“I like it,” Luhan tells him. He lets go of Minseok’s hand to cup Minseok’s face with his palms, thumbs caressing his cheeks.

Minseok tries to avoid his gaze at first, the insecurity still affecting his actions, but when he finally looks into Luhan’s eyes, the former model finds himself smiling.

“I will have you out of the city,” he acknowledges, “but it’s not wrong for you to hope and desire in the meantime. I won’t have you stay behind for me again, but I will tell you that those unchanging feelings you have are the same ones that allowed me to forgive you.”

Minseok smiles then, his lips pulling back into a toothy grin as he finally relaxes. Luhan decides that he doesn’t really care about crossing lines at that moment. He’d spent most of their relationship waiting on Minseok to make the decisions, but he’d never been a patient person before and that impatience was finally returning to him. He doesn’t kiss Minseok on the lips, however, despite what they’ve said he still feels it’s too soon, but he does brush a kiss against Minseok’s forehead.

“When did you change,” Minseok mutters.

“When I found someone I wanted to protect and stopped lying to myself about it,” Luhan replies. “The second part is a recent development so I'll probably screw up in the next hour.”

Minseok laughs then, it’s short and low, but it lights up his entire face, and Luhan watches him captivated. Minseok hadn’t laughed since Luhan had confronted him about his secret, he hadn’t even truly smiled since that day. It’s only in this moment that Luhan realizes just how much he missed that laugh. His laugh, his smile, it was all so pure, so unmarked by the hardships and resentment he’d faced in life. Luhan finds himself chuckling softly, his anxiety gone for the moment as euphoria races through his veins. Minseok’s laughter, his momentary joy is contagious. It warms Luhan’s body from the tips of his fingers, that are still pressed against Minseok’s face, down to the tips of his toes. It makes him never want to leave his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will go down in history as the longest fanfic I've ever written now that we've hit 100,000 words... I have no idea how this is so long. I have a few more reveals coming up in the future chapters so please look forward to that.


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six

Luhan runs a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. He leans back against the plush seats of his couch watching the shadows dance across the room as the sun climbs above the distant horizon into the early morning sky. He launches forward at the first chimes of Caelum’s national anthem, fingers running along his temples, soothing the migraine he can feel coming. For the past three days, the national anthem sounded off at the first rays of sunlight over District One. It was one of the newer changes brought on by Junmyeon’s death, the other being a curfew that stretches from the poorer parts of Seven to the Red Light. The many brothels in the Red Light have not been affected, nor have the seedy love motels, but from  9:30 pm to 6 am, not a soul was allowed out in those areas.

Luhan just makes out the soft creaking of a door over the bell-like voices singing the anthem and lifts his head, turning to watch as Minseok makes his way towards him.

"Did you get any sleep," Minseok asks him, his voice rough from sleep but loud enough to be heard over the soprano singers.

"No," Luhan replies, and he finds himself tempted once more to lean back against the plush seats. His fatigue limbs urging him to find some comfort to rest.

"I'll be fine," he adds when he notices the look on Minseok's face. "It's just a memorial, I just have to sit there." Minseok nods his head and takes a seat beside him. They don’t speak at first, even as the song comes to a close. Minseok sits with his eyes focused straight ahead, lost in thought. Luhan’s lost in his own muddled mind, letting thought after thought come and go as the lack of sleep deprives him of his concentration.

“Did they ever tell you,” Luhan asks suddenly, turning to face Minseok.

“Did who ever tell me what?”

“Did Yixing or Junmyeon ever tell you about your sister?”

Minseok shakes his head in response, removing his gaze from the nothingness in front of him to look at Luhan. “I wasn’t aware they knew anything about her.”

“They looked into you,” Luhan states. “That’s what they do when they think someone’s suspicious since they have the resources. Your parents are still registered as her biological parents.” It reminds Luhan of the conversation he’d had with Kyungsoo. Although he’d decided to let go of his anger, it still stung to be reminded of the distrust his friends seemed to have had.

“Is she happy,” Minseok asks.

“She lives in District Five, near Kai’s family home. She’s just graduated and wants to become a plastic surgeon at the Healing Center. She sounds happy.”

Those were things Luhan had used his own power to find out. The weight of being approved by Great Ruler gaining him the ability to interview teachers about the private lives of their former students.

“That’s good,” Minseok states, leaning back in his seat and facing forward again. “She wouldn’t have been. If they’d allowed my parents to keep her she would have been miserable. She would have been restricted to curfews and illness. She would have had men taking advantage of her because she’s not even a human being to them let alone protected by the laws.”

There’s a wrinkle in between his brows, his lips are turned down as he thinks and Luhan moves closer to him, curious and doing his best to be a supportive and grounding force to the man beside him.

“When,” Minseok starts off, choking on the word as if fighting to say his thoughts. “When my mother got sick – sicker. When I was fourteen and she’d gotten sicker I came across her in that room, crying on the floor. She was a hysterical mess and kept apologizing to me, saying how much she wished that she would have allowed them to take me away as well.”

Luhan wraps his arm around Minseok’s shoulders, fingertips running along the exposed skin of his arm in an attempt at comfort. MInseok leans into him, allowing himself to be embraced as he breathes in a deep shaky breath. “She thought that her selfishness caused me to live an unhappy life as an Imperfect and regretted it.”

“I’m sorry,” Luhan mummers low, pulling Minseok even closer to him.

“Don’t be. I’ve always been curious about her life. I’m just glad to know she’s well.”

********

Luhan lets a long deep huff of annoyance slip from his lips. The skinny tie around his neck is quickly undone and dragged away. There’s not a rigid dress code, he doesn’t n _eed_ the tie, but it does make a small distinction between the hedonistic model the tabloids love and the executive businessman he’s expected to be.

The tie slips from his fingers, hitting the bedroom floor as he crosses the room to take a seat on his bed. He just shouldn’t go. He couldn’t even get the tie right. Every time he tried to put one on it would be too tight, too confining, or look wrong. He probably wouldn’t even be able to convince Yixing to go. It was a farce of an event anyway. Junmyeon wouldn’t be upset. He wouldn’t have approved anyway.

“Luhan,” he hears and raises his head in question. Minseok stands in the doorway, eyes bright and teeth clamped down onto his bottom lip. The pair of them had been walking on eggshells since even before their talk that morning. Luhan had hoped, had believed, that with Minseok’s confession, and subsequent agreement to move back in with him, that things would be easier. He’d been naïve. He hadn't assumed that they would return to exactly like how they had once been, yet he hadn't thought that they'd be what they are now.

Minseok is always there, but always so hesitant. Gone are the days of his confidence and carefree personality, in its place stands the silent and cautious Minseok, that wears his insecurities like a badge. Now, he treats Luhan as if he expects the former model to change his mind and send him away, and although Luhan tells himself that it’s the guilt of lying that has made him like this, it feels like he’s not being trusted.

Luhan was beginning to lose his mind. He had begun taking his Perfect pills again, but they were weaker now that his body was starting to build a tolerance. One pill would typically get him through the day, but he'd return home as it begun to wane away and his emotions grew stronger and be faced with a careful and jumpy Minseok, making him want to scream.

"I'll do it for you," he says, stepping into the room. He watches as Minseok bends over to pick up the fallen tie, and stands as the Imperfect walks towards him.

"I wish you were able to attend," He says.

"I don't think that would be appropriate," Minseok says in reply, a humorless smile on his face.

"He hadn't cared, you know," Luhan reminds him, affection whirling in his gut as he watches Minseok’s face while the male before him loops the tie into a perfect knot.

"I know," Minseok agrees, "I’m still a representation of what killed him, and President Kim knows that." He grins then, pushing the knot up until it’s in its proper place, hands smoothing down Luhan’s shirt.

“I want to go with you,” Luhan whispers. The easy expression slips from Minseok’s lips as he frowns, eyes wild as he searches Luhan’s face in bewilderment.

“What,” he gasps out, fingers pulling away from the tie in haste.

"I can't hide you away here," Luhan states slowly, "I know that, but maybe – instead–I could go with you." He finds himself grasping Minseok’s hands in what almost feels like a desperate plea.

"Luhan," Minseok starts, his eyes flitting about to avoid Luhan’s inquisitive gaze. "Let's not do this now."

"Minseok," he says, pressing forward. "I-"

"You have a funeral you need to go to," Minseok says interrupting. He pulls his hands out of Luhan's grasp and takes a few steps back. "You need to be there for Yixing, you have to get him and... Please... this talk–it can happen later." He looks up at Luhan then, eyes wide and shining bright with what looks like fear to Luhan. "I have to go too," he adds quickly tearing his gaze away. "I still have to work." He steps out of the room before Luhan can get another word in.

********

Luhan had never visited the place Junmyeon and Yixing stayed at before the incident. However, Yixing’s current hotel is situated in District Three. The tall skyscraper seems to reach as high as the clouds, with crystal glass windows covering every inch of the sleek tower’s exterior. The carpet inside is a rich red, and so plush Luhan can feel the softness through his stiff dress shoes. It is the complete opposite of what Junmyeon and Yixing tended to go for, and Luhan figures the difference was one of the deciding factors in getting Yixing a room.

Yixing's on the fifteenth floor, room number 1508. Kris had given him the stiff keycard the night before when Luhan had agreed to be the one to bring Yixing to the memorial. He pauses once he’s in front of the door to the room, going over what he’d say to get Yixing to come along with him.

Clothes litter the floor of the suite. Half-eaten food sits outside of the bedroom on a glass coffee table in the sectioned-off living area. Yixing sits in the middle of a large white bed, the pillows tossed haphazardly around the bedroom, the sheets slipping off and pooling around the bed. There’s is a gray tablet in his hand, and a sleek black laptop before him. Yixing’s pale, he looks less like the ghost he’d been when Luhan had retrieved him, but he still has a sickly pallor to him that makes the purplish bruises underneath his eyes stick out. His chapped lips are wrapped around a thin purple stylus pen as he works.

"You need to get dressed," Luhan states slowly, stepping deeper into the room. He leans back against the dresser in front of the bed, arms crossed over his chest.

Yixing looks up, eyes clear and attentive as his gaze quickly flicks over Luhan before returning to the laptop in front of him. “I’m not going,” He says, as he removes the stylus from his mouth. His voice comes out hoarse and he coughs after.

It makes Luhan wonder when was the last time he’d spoken. He knew that Kris and Kyungsoo were taking turns watching him, but that didn’t mean they were holding conversations. Yixing and Junmyeon were always the most sociable compared to the group of them.

"Yes," Luhan says, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he frowns at Yixing, "you are."

"No," Yixing says in the same tone Luhan uses, not looking up, “I have more important things to do.”

“What could be more important than being there for your partner,” Luhan asks. He spits the sentence out with raised eyebrows as if he’s trying to remind Yixing in what ways that term implied to Junmyeon and his relationship

“Work,” Yixing answers. “Keeping the world safe from rebels and terroristic acts, you know, the usual. Besides, what’s the point.”

“What’s the point,” Luhan repeats. “This is a memorial service, Yixing. We’re there to commemorate Junmyeon’s life and work.”

Yixing drops the tablet and brings his gaze back up to Luhan’s. “You know that’s not true,” he states simply.

“Yixing,” he starts, slowly.

“I do not want to go, Luhan,” Yixing says cutting him off. “It’ll be an even more outrageous spectacle than the Sovereignty parade and I don’t understand why I need to be subjected to _that_ ,” he spits the word out with disdain.

“For Junmyeon,” Luhan replies. “Do it for Junmyeon.”

“I stopped doing things for him when he decided to die,” Yixing retorts. He picks up the tablet again, fingers tapping loudly against the glass screen to fill the silence.

“Yixing, you’re in mourning,” Luhan relays, stepping closer to the younger male. “We all are. You witnessed it you’re allowed to–”

Yixing chuckles, his incessant tapping has stopped, but his eyes are still drawn to the screen of the tablet. “Why would I be in mourning,” he asks. “Why would I mourn someone who chose to die?”

Luhan closes the laptop, moving it away from Yixing, and wrestles the tablet away as he takes a seat in front of his friend. “You need to tell me what you mean,” he demands, fighting to capture Yixing’s gaze. “The woman at the Institution said he was murdered by Rebels. Why would you say he chose to die?”

Yixing doesn’t reply at first, his eyes are still focused downward, staring at the bedsheets, and avoiding Luhan’s own at all costs. Luhan loses his patience, he grips the sides of Yixing’s face between his hands and forces the other male to look at him. “Why would you say that,” he asks again.

“He was aiming for me,” Yixing finally says. His tone has lost all the fiery passion it’d contained before, while his eyes have dulled to same emptiness they had once been. “The rebel was aiming at me. He defied protocol and saved me, and now he’s dead. He wasn’t supposed to save me, Luhan. You’re only supposed to save superiors or those with critical information. You’re supposed to watch your partner’s back not die for them. He wasn’t supposed to die, but he did like a freaking idiot, and I refuse to go to that thing. I won’t stand there and watch as they honor him for doing something so stupid. He’s not a hero, Lu, he’s just dead and going there won’t bring him back.”

Luhan’s quiet. He’d long since released Yixing from his grip, and now he stares at the messy hair of the man before him doing his best to process the information he’d hadn’t expected to hear.

“Would you have let Junmyeon die if you saw someone aiming a gun at him,” Luhan asks.

“Yes,” Yixing croaks out. “It’s what I’m supposed to do. If we were outnumbered and I couldn’t save him without killing myself then yes. Neither of our lives is more important than the other’s. Neither of us possessed classified information.”

‘Liar,” Luhan retorts. “You’ve always said and done the opposite of what you’ve felt, ever since we were kids. You said you and Junmyeon were just having fun and you couldn’t be in a monogamous relationship because you loved people too much, but that was a lie, you loved Junmyeon and you hated how that made you feel. You said you weren’t jealous of Kyungsoo when even a toddler could see you hated the bond he had with Junmyeon for years. You say you’d have let him die but I don’t believe you.”

“I would have,” Yixing retorts, glaring at Luhan. “Protocol is protocol.”

“If you would have, then we’d still be here, wouldn’t we,” Luhan asks. “You’ve never stuck fully to protocol when you didn’t want to, I know that. If they had aimed at Junmyeon and you’d just let it happen, then I would be here listening to you try and fail to use that type of reasoning to ease your guilt. If Junmyeon had just let you die I’d still be here, only I’d be consoling Junmyeon through his guilt at following protocol.”

“I don’t want to go,” Yixing mutters, the hostility gone from him.

“Neither do I,” Luhan admits, “but we owe it to him as his friends. They’re going to use him and his work to support ideologies he would have never agreed with. We’ll be the few people that knew Junmyeon and what he really believed in, and I don’t think it’s right to skip out on that. Besides, I’d rather hear it first hand, then hear years down the line that our Junmyeon’s image has been morphed into the image of an Imperfect Genocide endorser."

Yixing doesn’t say anything, but Luhan figures that since he’s not putting up a fight he might have convinced the younger male. He stands then, hands stretching above his head as he looks down at his friend. “Go take a shower Yixing, you stink, and if I have to wash you again, I will.”

“Yixing glares up at him but stands. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes staring past Luhan as he thinks. He bites down on his chapped and bleeding lips and Luhan tries not to flinch at the sight.

"I miss him," Yixing whispers.

"I wouldn't be friends with someone that didn't miss their lover," Luhan says. "There's nothing wrong with it. It doesn't make you any less a Perfect for having those feelings, if he hadn't saved you, then he would be here instead, saying the same thing. Having someone important die isn't easy, but because we're Perfects we can deal with it better. You'll learn to deal with it better." Yixing nods his head in understanding and pulls Luhan into a hug.

"Thank you," he tells him, "I think I needed you the most."

"I'm sorry I never came earlier," Luhan says.

Yixing pulls away from him, and finally heads off to the bathroom.

With Yixing gone Luhan takes a seat back on the messy bed. He runs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh as the tension holding his shoulders tight and stiff finally releases him. For a while, Luhan just sits there. He thinks about his day so far, and what he expects to face with later on and nearly groans in exasperation throwing himself back against the bed. He just lays there for a bit, allowing himself to relax against the plush mattress and soft sheets.

Only when the time has passed and he’s sure Yixing’s about to come out does he finally stand up. He takes another glance around the bedroom, happy he’d put in the request to have it cleaned, and picks ou the sleek gray tablet, skinny laptop, and brown book on the bed. The purple stylus is missing, lost somewhere among the many sheets. He takes the items over to the desk on the far side of the room. It’s already piled high with things, and Luhan has to shuffle things about to make room.

Something manages to fall as he finally makes space, and Luhan heaves an annoyed sigh as he places the items down, and squats down to pick up the fallen object, hoping it hasn’t broken. The dropped object is a mini external hard drive, and with a quick once over Luhan deduces that it’s fine. He goes to stand when he notices a sheet of paper further back behind the desk. He goes on his knees, fingers reaching out to retrieve it from his place wedged between the wall and the desk.

It’s a picture, Luhan gathers from the glossy texture as he stands. He places the hard drive down and turns the picture over expecting to see an old picture of Junmyeon and Yixing. It’s not. Instead of the smiling faces of his friends looking back at him in the dog-eared picture before him, there are three grinning men.

On the left, a grim-looking man with auburn hair and arms crossed in front of his chest stares with narrowed eyes at the camera. On the right stands a man Luhan had seen quite a few times in his life. His dark hair is falling into his eyes, on his cheek, there’s the scar he’d obtained during the war. He’s grinning, eyes twinkling with amusement and crows-feet wrinkles prominent as he leans in towards the man in the middle. Luhan called him uncle as a child. In the middle, eyes crinkled in happiness, the shadow of facial hair apparent in the lighting, stands the most familiar of the three. He’s missing the weathered look of a man that lived years watching the people around him die and grow sick from the polluted air, but Luhan would always recognize him. In the middle of Yixing’s picture, standing tall between the two other men, is his father. Both of his arms are thrown around the other men, and they look as if they’re in front of the house he’d spent his early years in.

Luhan doesn’t hear the shower stop, but he does hear the sound of the bathroom’s lock and quickly places the picture underneath one of the many things on the desk.

“What are you doing,” Yixing asks him, as Luhan turns around. There’s a towel around his waist, and water drip from the strands of his hair. His eyes are red and a bit puffy, but they’re focused on the desk behind Luhan.

“Thought I’d put your things up,” Luhan states. “You’ve got to hurry, I’ve put in an order to have the room clean, and we’ll be late.” Yixing looks towards him, eyes narrowed in consideration, but nods and turns away.


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Yixing is silent during the car ride, not that Luhan expected anything different. The CNS agent sits beside him, teeth buried into his bruised bottom lip, and eyes trained on the passing scenery outside the car’s window. Luhan can barely look at him. With every glance over he sees the broken man from that day, lost and haunted with blood staining his hands and face. When Luhan doesn’t see the Yixing from the past, he remembers the picture of his father, younger with fewer wrinkles and a smile that reached his eyes.

Yixing makes a noise beside him as they reach the venue that causes Luhan to look over. He’s looking ahead, his lip freed in order to frown, and his hands are clenched tight into fists.

“What,” Luhan asks, focusing on the traffic again, but curious about what Yixing sees.

“Reporters,” Yixing says, nearly spitting the word out as he glares. Luhan frowns as well. He had his suspicions that reporters would be there. The memorial was not for mourning but for show. It was to be televised for all to see on all channels and digital displays.

“You won’t have to say a word,” Luhan tells him. “You’re CNS, so they’re less likely to bother you even if you’re also a Zhang.”

“I was also his partner,” Yixing reminds him.

“Yes,” Luhan agrees with a nod of his head, “but you’re going in with me, and I’ll make sure they don’t bother you. I have a plan.” Yixing looks over to him. Luhan can tell even as he focuses on the slow-moving traffic because the gaze is heavy on his skin.

“What are you planning?”

Luhan smirks, lips pulling back as he spares a brief glance in Yixing’s direction. “You’ll see.”

A valet scurries over to Luhan’s door the moment he stops in front of Grand Capital Hall. He drives the car away as the pair stand in front of the steps leading up to the entrance.

“I’ve seen this place too much this year,” Luhan says drily. “It’s starting to lose its appeal.” He turns to Yixing then, looking over the uniform to make sure everything’s in place. “You ready?”

“No,” Yixing replies, but he steps forward, hands in the pockets of his slacks and eyes looking straight ahead. Luhan quickly catches up to him, walking up the stone steps. There’s a surge of enthusiasm among the crowds of reporters. They’re the second pair of highly anticipated guests after Junmyeon’s family, and Luhan’s sure the reporters are desperate for interviews.

His guess his proven correct as he hears a loud cry of “sir” when they’re halfway up the steps. He pauses first, while Yixing stops a moment later, glaring at Luhan as he turns around. Luhan grins back and turns as well. A woman with a pixie cut stops only a few steps below him. In the hand closest to her face is a thin rectangular device that Luhan knows is a microphone, while tucked behind her ear, and peeking out like a third eye is a microscopic camera.

“What do you think of the new regulations being enforced,” the out of breath woman asks, taking another step as she reaches out the thin microphone. Luhan leans forward to the gadget in order to be heard over the loud chatter of the crowd.

“I approve,” he answers. His eyes are trained on her because the camera will make it seem like he’s looking directly at it. “I wish we could do more to assure that such travesties would never occur. The rebels are menaces to our peace and happiness, and I think no Imperfect can ever truly be anything but sympathizers. I wished we’d done more in the beginning, but I’m happy with the way things are finally coming along.” He cocks his head just a bit and leans back. “I hope we can live in a society without both Imperfect and rebel,” he says loudly.

He gives a slight nod in dismissal at the stunned reporter and turns away to start climbing the steps once more.

“What the heck was that,” Yixing asks in a whisper, pulling on Luhan’s arm to keep them in sync.

“My plan,” Luhan answers, whispering as well.

“What about Minseok,” Yixing whispers next.

“This will help,” Luhan says. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“You’d better,” Yixing says, pulling away. He’s frowning once more. “You’ve just placed a rather large target on your head and I’m not sure we’ve flushed out all the rebels from this city.”

Yixing joins the CNS agents standing along the walls of the room all dressed in the red or white uniforms denoting their ranks. Luhan watches in mild fascination as the many red dressed members bow their heads in an act of formality as Yixing passes by, taking up a spot beside the door Junmyeon’s family is expected to walk through.

Cameras are set up throughout the room, already recording despite the stage being empty. Luhan finds Kyungsoo’s and Kris’s parents before he sees his friends sitting rows behind their respective families. He spots President Kim as well, but since the man had made no request for them to sit together, he takes a place beside his friends.

“How are you,” Luhan asks, as he sits down on Kyungsoo’s right. He hadn’t seen the younger since that night, but he looks as well as ever.

“Not too bad, considering what’s happen,” Kyungsoo replies. He glances towards his left and turns back to Luhan. “I see you managed to get Yixing to come along.”

“Yeah,” Luhan replies with a groan, not feeling up to recounting that challenge. He wants to lean back but knows that’s against all the etiquette rules that were beaten into him. “This will be fun,” he states sarcastically, “who’s speaking?”

“Family friend,” Kyungsoo says. “The other former head of CNS, Sir Yung, I think. I never really liked him, so I never bothered to learn his full name.

“Isn’t he a little insane,” Luhan asks, quirking a brow.

“More than just a little,” Kyungsoo scoffs. “CNS was his brain child. He also endorsed the Genocide. He used to have these horrid tales about killing, catching, and imprisoning Imperfects. The type of stories that should just never be retold, let alone at a dinner table. I stopped talking to Junmyeon for a while when he joined the CNS because I thought he’d end up like that psychopath.”

“Lovely,” Luhan huffs. “Guess we really are heading towards a second genocide.”

A hush falls over the crowd, and at the first chimes of the nation’s mourning song everyone that’s sitting begins to stand. Like everyone around him, Luhan watches the door beside Yixing. When it opens, all the members of CNS drop down to one knee save for Yixing. The first to enter the room is the current head of CNS’s field operations and he takes up the place on the opposite of the door, hands behind his back. The members of CNS stand once he gets in position and bows their heads, hands tucked behind their backs as the family enters. Following him is Junmyeon’s older brother. His face is set in a neutral expression, eyes trained on the camera before him. Luhan’s sure that his wife and children are somewhere in the first row.

Junmyeon’s mother is next. She’s dressed in full black, with a lace veil covering her face. Her eldest lends his hand to help her climb the stage. Luhan expects Junmyeon’s father to arrive next. The Kims weren’t a large family, they’d followed an old model of having an heir and a second child to make sure their legacy was preserved and expanded upon, and this type of ceremony was for immediate family only. Junmyeon’s father doesn’t come next. Instead, dressed in all white, with a veil similar to Mrs. Kim, Junmyeon’s former fiancée walks through. She walks with measured steps towards the stage and holds a bouquet of mostly white flowers in her hand. As she reaches the stage, she temporarily hands the bouquet over to Mrs. Kim while Junmyeon’s brother helps her up.

The three people walk over to their seats but remain standing. Behind them is a large screen with a picture of Junmyeon in his white CNS uniform, smiling.

Junmyeon’s father finally arrives. He treks swiftly towards the stage, face drawn tight, and with more wrinkles than the last time Luhan has seen him. The original CNS field head comes in last, just as the mourning song has ended. He walks with an odd limp over towards the stage, taking his place in front of the podium. The nation’s anthem starts for the second time that day, and everyone remains standing and facing the stage with various emotions, some faked, and some forced.

They sit once the song has ended, and the former head clears his throat. Luhan doesn’t watch him, his gaze is focused on the woman in white. Her head is bowed, and the bouquet in her hands is gripped tightly as the service begins. He spares a quick glance towards Yixing out of concern, only to see the younger male’s eyes on the woman as well, focused but unreadable.

She doesn’t belong there. She’d been exiled from the upper echelons of society and disowned by her own family for running off and marrying a man of District Seven wealth. She’d led Junmyeon into being the laughing stock of District One. To their peers, love couldn’t compare to money and power.

The former CNS head clears his throat as he steps closer to the microphone and podium. His eyes aren’t on the crowd before him, he stares forward and Luhan knows that he’s looking at a camera.

“Kim Junmyeon was a strong and incredible man from a family that helped lay down the foundations of our Nation,” he starts off in a gravelly tone of voice. “Taken from this world by those that pledge to wipe out our civilization, our way of life, and return it to the primitive state of war and savagery we’ve worked hard to escape.”

Luhan stops paying attention then. He finds himself once again thinking back to that picture in Yixing’s hotel room. It was a picture of his father, younger and happier at a time when his mother must have been alive. Beside his father had stood someone Luhan knew in his youth, an uncle that really wasn't an uncle. They'd fought together. Luhan remembers that.

********

_Luhan's wide brown eyes searched every dark corner of his room in childish fright, while he sat in bed. He'd awoken in the middle of the night from another nightmare. In this dream the men in red and white uniforms had returned to his school, calling out name after name. However, unlike reality they'd called out Luhan's name and like his peers, he was forced to walk to the front of the classroom where they stood waiting. The men waiting had leered down at him, their nondescript faces monster-like and grim. When Luhan had reached them, a hand clamped hard onto his shoulder as a whispered voice told him that he'd never see his father again._

_It had been a horrible dream. The older kids had told him that the Imperfect kids were taking away, sent to a remote island in the middle of nowhere and never allowed to see their parents again. Luhan wasn't an Imperfect, but it had still been a fear of his. Every day, since their first visit his mind would be filled with fear that they might come back and mistake him for an Imperfect._

_When he had finished checking his room, he’d climbed out of bed, unsure of the time but sure his father was home. Outside of his bedroom was the sound of muffled voices that grew louder the closer he came to them. Luhan’s childhood home was often filled with night visitors and that night was no different. The whispered words that grew slightly more distinguishable as he drew closer were spoken in joy although in a foreign language. Luhan’s father had loved speaking in his native tongue, and Luhan had always enjoyed hearing it when he could._

_In the brightly lit kitchen with his back towards the entrance, Luhan’s father sat. Across from him sat the dark-haired and scarred man that Luhan had only known as Uncle. He was the first to notice Luhan and beckoned the child over with a smile, while his father had regarded him with a look of curiosity._

_“What are you doing awake, kiddo,” his uncle asked. His voice was deep and rich, the opposite of Luhan’s father low and raspy voice. While his father’s voice always sounded sad even when he wasn’t, his uncle's voice reminded him of chocolate. It was warm and happy._

_“I had a nightmare,” Luhan had answered after he sat down. He’d looked towards his father then, embarrassed by his childishness and anticipating a dismissal from the table. “About the men in red and white uniforms.”_

_“The men in red and white uniforms,” his uncle had repeated. His smile had disappeared for a moment, but then he’d turned towards Luhan’s father with his usual grin. “He’s dreaming about those bastards too, huh.”_

_“They’ve been visiting schools, I’ve heard,” Luhan’s father had said as he leaned back in his seat and reached for a cigarette. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t touch you,” he added as he looked at his son._

_“Yeah,” his uncle had agreed. “They’re too busy going after the people that risked their lives for this fucking country, aren’t they? We fought for those elite bastards over and over again and what did we get? They paid us in blood and ashes, and threw us in landfills.”_

_Luhan hadn’t understood what he meant, but he sounded cool. His uncle always sounded cool, even if his father didn’t think so. Luhan’s father hadn’t thought he sounded cool then either, and gave the man a look that Luhan had learned meant that he wanted the person to shut up fast. It was something he’d wanted to learn since he’d first seen it because it was a look that everyone understood. The man across from his father is the only person in the world that could ignore it._

_“What I’m saying is,” he had begun again. He’d slapped his hand down on the table, almost knocking his yellow and brown can of beer over, and leaned forward. “Those government dogs aren’t worth your thoughts, kiddo. Your dad would burn this nation down before they could even dream of touching a hair on your head.” He’d leaned in closer to Luhan then. He’d smelt sour, the stench of the malt alcohol wafted off him and made Luhan wrinkle his nose in disgust. “Your father was a force back in our military days, and to this day I’m grateful to have been assigned to the same squadron as him.” He’d switched back to his native language as he sat back up, and begun talking to his father._

_******** _

“We must continue to honor Kim Junmyeon’s legacy and goals. We must follow his example and keep our citizens safe from the threat of Imperfects at all costs.”

Those are the last words said, and the only other thing Luhan hears as he breaks away from his thoughts of the past. He glances to the left of him and notices the way Kyungsoo’s jaw is clenched as if he’s biting down hard to keep himself from shouting out. He’s glaring straight ahead, but not quite at the speaker. On the opposite side of Kyungsoo Kris sits rigidly in his seat, tired eyes flitting around the room ever so often. Yixing stands back straight, face blank, and eyes still staring at the woman on the stage.

The next event is the candle lighting ceremony. Sir Yung steps back from the podium, and as it descends into the ground a large candelabra made of crystal emerges. There are five branches, that spans almost the entire stage, each with intricate designs carved into the glass. There is a different colored candle in each holder, and the people on the stage each take up space in front of one.

Junmyeon’s father steps forward first lighting a black candle. “For grief,” he intones, deeply. On the screen behind them, the wick of the black candle blazes bright. It is the only candle that represents those that remain, and burning it symbolizes the alleviation of grief by friends and family.

“For peace and serenity,” Junmyeon’s mother says. She lights the white candle in front of her which represents a spirit’s afterlife.

Im Yoona, Junmyeon’s former fiancée, steps forward next. Her long skirt swaying with her movement as she takes her spot in front of the middle candle. The candle before her is a pinkish-red for the heart.

“For,” she starts in almost a whisper. “For everlasting love,” she says louder, lighting the candle and stepping back. Junmyeon’s brother steps up after her, his face is still void of emotion, but his eyes stare unwavering into a camera. Although it is not the last in the candelabra it is the last that signifies the elements that transcend mortality.

“For eternal remembrance,” he announces, lighting a yellow candle for the mind.

The last candle is supposed to be lit by the speaker. Its color represents the mortal being and is never a set color unlike the other four. The color for Junmyeon is a royal blue, and Luhan can’t help but think it’s a color that fits him well. _Calming, trusting, intelligent,_ and so much more.

“For loyalty and honor,” Sir Yung intones, stepping back after lighting the candle. He looks up from the orange flame to the camera once more as he begins the final ceremonial words. "We stand in ceremony for a child of the state, of perfect spirit, heart, and mind. May his memory be rich in love and reverence."

“For Kim Junmyeon,” the crowd says in unison while standing.

The candles remain on the stage when the service is over, even as the family begins to leave the stage one by one. Junmyeon’s father goes first, followed by his mother, and then his brother.  His ex-fiancée is the last to leave, she’d handed the bouquet off to his mother, and now she walks with determination down the steps. She doesn’t go through the door to exit like the others do. She stops beside Yixing, her lace gloved hand teaching his arm as she speaks. Luhan can’t hear a thing she says, but he doubts it’s good from the way Yixing looks. He decides then to intervene, and squeezes himself pass Kyungsoo, Kris, and all the other people still lingering about. Yixing’s lips are pulled down at the corners, and they part as he says words Luhan can’t hear. He departs first, breaking the ritual rules as he slips through the exit beside him. She slips through the door next, and Luhan follows them both.

When Luhan finally gets to the corridor only she remains.

“Yoona,” he calls out to her causing her to swiftly turn around.

“Luhan,” she greets, walking towards him. They meet in the middle of the corridor, Yoona’s face is still covered by the lace veil, but Luhan can see the frown on her lips.

“What did you say to him,” Luhan asks. Her eyes widen at that and she looks towards the other end of the corridor as if expecting Yixing to come back.

“He should have been on stage,” she states simply. She reaches a hand under the veil and rubs at her red-rimmed eyes.

“Why were you there then,” Luhan asks pointedly. He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for her answer. She was beautiful, had always been beautiful, and they’d been the most talked about couple.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Yoona replies. “They came to me. I haven’t seen my mother or his since I called off the engagement and the first thing they say to me is that I need to participate in this sham of a service. They told me I humiliated him, that I made him a joke in District One, and that it was only right that I didn’t do the same in his afterlife.”

“You left one of the most powerful men in this country to play poor with a factory worker,” Luhan reminds her. “Of course, you humiliated him. Pretending like you give a damn about his afterlife doesn’t help him. This wasn’t even for him it was for them and their image to the public. They needed you, not Yixing, to play the sad lovesick ex so that they could pretend that he was perfect in all aspects. They were more upset about you breaking the engagement than he’d ever been.”

“I know that,” Yoona whispers. “He understood back then. We were friends, and he’d told me how much he loved Yixing, how much he didn’t want to marry me or have children for the sake of appearances. He thanked me when I broke off the engagement.”

She laughs then, the sound bordering on hysterical, and Luhan can’t help but feel concerned for her. He’d never disliked her either, although he had been and still is annoyed about her being on that stage. She pulls the veil off causing strands of her long brunette hair to slip from her loose braid at the motion.

“He came to visit me recently, it was back when he returned to the city, and I wanted to honor him for that. My goal being here was to honor him the best I could because he was the only one that supported my decision and the only one that talked to me after. I didn’t mean to hurt Yixing, Luhan. You know we actually did get along before the engagement. I only wanted to make sure that the world didn’t think he was unloved even for a second. I did love him, but only as a brother.”

“Okay,” he says with a huff. “Junmyeon would have hated everything about this, but he would have been glad to see you.” Yoona gives him a pained closed mouth smile and pulls him into a hug of gratitude.

Yixing is at his car when Luhan exits the building. His hands are in his slacks again, and he’s looking off into the distance.

“Where are we going,” he asks the younger male. Yixing turns towards him, looking him over as he stands properly.

“Let me drive,” Yixing commands, hand slipping out of his pockets to take Luhan’s car keys. Luhan looks over the younger male, uncertainty clouding his features, but with a shrug he passes the keys over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added another flashback. It feels a bit awkward but I like it. To me, grief and sadness are private matters that a Perfect would not show to the public unless it utterly beneficial to them so I tried my best to try and make it clinical and cold.
> 
> Also, the updates may begin to slow just a bit. I want to work on and publish a few other fanfics before the summer's over but finishing this is still my number 1 priority. As always thanks for all your support and love <3


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight

The building Yixing drives him to isn't far from the memorial service. It's a squat gray concrete establishment hidden in the shadows of the steel structures and sleek skyscrapers surrounding it. From what Luhan can tell, the building has three floors. Small tinted rectangular shaped windows take up space on the walls of the first two floors. They seem to be there more for decoration than to allow any light in. The third floor’s windows are tinted as well, but they stretch the full length of the walls and have black lines crisscrossing them in a pattern. It’s a bit of an eyesore.

Luhan quickly learns that the first two floors house a parking garage. The cars within the garage are few and varying in expense making it difficult for him to gauge just what to expect in this mysterious place.

Yixing exits the car as soon as it’s parked, and Luhan trails behind him. It’s quiet. The concrete walls block out the always present city noise, and all that can be heard is the slap of their formal shoes against the glossy floor. Yixing hadn’t said a work since taking his spot in the driver’s seat, and he’s still silent as he leads Luhan towards a stairwell. If he notices Luhan’s curiosity, he chooses to ignore it.

The pair stop in front of a silver door on the third floor. There’s no indication it is even a door, but Luhan assumes so from how the dark gray metal contrasts with the light concrete.

“Agent Lay here with a friend,” Yixing intones, his gaze is lifted towards the camera overhead that glows a bright red. There is not a reply, but Luhan can discern the sound of invisible locks clicking. The door swings open seconds later and Yixing steps through, Luhan following at his heels.

The place smells of cinnamon and citrus, and something that distinctively reminds Luhan of the low-brow bars in District Four. Men and women linger around the room, some of them hidden in the shadows of the bar’s darkest corners, some dressed in their CNS uniforms. All that catch Yixing's eyes flash a gesture that Yixing nods in response to as he makes his way towards the bar across from the door.

"Drinks on the house," a bartender says to Yixing as the pair take a seat off the edge of the long counter. "In Suho's honor." He takes their order and as he turns away from them Luhan glances over to the male beside him.

"Where are we," he asks. There's a thrum of instrumental music that's low enough to speak without yelling but loud enough to make it hard to eavesdrop.

"CNS territory," Yixing replies, as the drinks are placed in front of them. "Mainly where we drink."

Yixing swallows down his first shot of the night, and not another word is said as the younger knocks back shot after shot without much pacing, and Luhan nurses an extremely watered-down beverage that tastes like sewage. Yixing's lost in his grief and Luhan's lost in his thoughts.

"It was terrible," Yixing says after his fifth shot. He's leaning his head on his right hand, while his left plays with the empty shot glass in front of him.

"We knew it would be," Luhan mutters in reply. "It wasn't for him.

"It was vile," Yixing adds, his nose scrunching up in disgust. "How can his parents live with themselves after such an event. And Yoona..." he trails off. "They didn't need her."

"They didn't," Luhan agrees, "but that wasn't her fault."

"I know that," Yixing sighs. " I wasn't really mad at her, just annoyed. It was like they tried to figure out all the things Junmyeon would hate and do exactly that. How can they claim to honor him when that felt more like he was being punished for dying?"

Luhan doesn't reply, and they sit in silence once more. Yixing orders another shot and Luhan returns to the disgusting drink in front of him. He lets himself get lost in the strum of an acoustic guitar and the drone of a deep gruff voice singing about heartbreak.

It's moments later that Yixing slams the shot glass down harder than needed and stands. He's staring straight ahead, frown that never really left still visible for all to see. He drops his gaze down to Luhan, brown eyes raking over the man as he seems lost in his thoughts.

"Follow me," he commands quietly. Luhan throws him an inquisitive look but nods and stands. There is a door beside the bar, almost utterly hidden in the shadows of it. Only, when Luhan approaches it he realizes that he was wrong, it’s not a door exactly but the entrance to an elevator. Yixing presses a button that Luhan can’t see, and the doors part minutes later.

The elevator car is radiant compared to the bar. After stepping on and allowing the door to close behind them, Yixing hits the sole button inside. Below it, a panel is revealed and four buttons with rows of zeros and ones are exposed. Yixing presses the third button and the elevator begins its descent.

The corridor they enter after the swift elevator ride glows just as intensely as the elevator. There are no windows, but the vivid artificial lights shine so brightly Luhan finds himself squinting to get used to it. They are deep underground from what he can tell, somewhere in a tunnel encased by metal, making the light reflects off the metal and causing an almost headache inducing glare.

"Are we underground," Luhan asks, just to make sure. He doesn’t expect an answer. The quietness that has seized his friend since the end of the memorial service is starting to appear less due to grieving, and as they stand together in this underground corridor Luhan figures that he’s been dealing with Yixing’s trained CNS side for a while now.

Yixing gives him a brief nod in reply and begins walking down the long corridor. They’re in a maze, zigzagging through corridor after similar looking corridor. Aside from the twists and turns, it all looks the same. Luhan can't find a marker or anything that can tell him that he's in a different passageway from the last, but Yixing leads him with confidence until they're standing in front of a wall. Luhan figures it’s not just a wall, but unlike the elevator and bar entrance, there’s nothing that indicates that it’s anything beyond what it appears to be.

“Agent Lay of Deorum requests entry,” Yixing states loudly, eyes staring intently ahead. Luhan tilts his head in confusion, eyes flickering from the man before him to the wall as he observes in silence.

"Entrance granted," A feminine robotic voice responds. Yixing lifts his hand to the wall and it slides a way, opening to a room.

"Where are we," Luhan asks. The lights come on as soon as they step inside and Luhan looks from the large screen against the far wall of the narrow room to the rectangle conference table in the middle of it. “Really?”

“The most secure building in the entire city,” Yixing replies. “This is one of the rooms where we handle classified information. Junmyeon and I were programmed to it. Only people that come with me are allowed entrance.”

“And, I’m guessing Deorum is part of that classified information,” Luhan states, fingers running over the black polished surface of the table. He takes a seat and tilts his head to his friend. “Am I right?”

“It was a specialized operation Junmyeon and I headed,” Yixing answers, coming around the opposite end of the table. “Junmyeon and I were doing personal research outside of the operation. What we’re doing here, what I want to tell you, is not only classified but highly sensitive. Do you know what that means?”

“If you were anyone else, that would mean to keep it to myself. I can tell Minseok, right? Is this about that picture with my father?”

Yixing takes a seat across from Luhan, he doesn’t look surprised to hear Luhan bring up the picture, but he doesn’t answer the question. "You can tell Minseok if you want, but only Minseok. Kyungsoo and Kris will be told a doctored version of things when I get a chance to tell them.” Luhan doesn’t like the sound of that, having more secrets between their already fragile group seems risky but he’d always trusted Yixing’s instincts.

"I won't tell them,” he promises.

Yixing nods and closes his eyes. Luhan knows that look. It was something Yixing used to do when he was younger when he wanted to figure out how to best approach a topic on his mind. To others, it looked whimsical, but through the years Luhan had swiftly learned that such a look was reserved for the most serious of subjects.

"Do you ever wonder why we grew up with each other? The five of us, together, and no one else?” His eyes are open again and he's staring at Luhan with such scorching intensity that Luhan feels his mouth going dry.

"Because we were from the same District," Luhan says after a moment. "We lived close to each other, and your parents wanted you all to grow up with people that shared your background. I was thrown in by coincidence."

"There is no such thing as coincidence for President Kim,” Yixing says, shaking his head at the thought. “He plans all his moves with deliberation. He wouldn't just allow you to have friends so you'd be a happy kid, you know that."

"Yes," Luhan agrees, a surge of bitterness going through him. President Kim had never cared an ounce about his comfort, and Luhan was well aware of the benefits that came with his friendships. "So? That's no surprise, and it's hardly sensitive information. You're all beneficial in your own ways. Kris works for the most important financial institution within the country. You and Junmyeon were pretty much guaranteed to be politicians till you went off to join CNS, and Kyungsoo comes from law enforcement and education. You're all beneficial to me."

"Exactly," Yixing agrees easily. "And you work for the biggest entertainment agency in the country. You were groomed to take over the business since your adoption. Did you know that Junmyeon's family is still one of the biggest arms dealers in the country? Kim Industries works exclusively with CNS to develop new defense weapons. Junmyeon was supposed to take over the company. Our families have control over every industry important to the government, they have more power, more pull, than many members of Great Ruler’s cabinet.”

Luhan is quiet as he tries to comprehend what exactly Yixing is telling him. He’d always known that their families were powerful, and although he didn’t know the full extent of their power he doesn’t understand why it suddenly matters. Yixing seems to detect his confusion and continues speaking.

"Lu, what do you think would happen if you were attacked by rebels?" Although he only says attacked, Luhan knows that he means murdered. It was a word that they’d always avoided in the past because there was always a possibility, but now that it’s happened and one of their own has been taken away from them much earlier than the old aged death Luhan theorized. Now that one of their closest friends has been murdered, the word feels more dangerous, more prophetic, more likely.

"Nothing," Luhan answers almost immediately. It’s something he used to think about, and he’s not embarrassed by the confession. He wasn’t Kim Junmyeon or Zhang Yixing, he was Luhan, he was an orphan and an embarrassment to his adopted father. He’d be lucky if President Kim released more than a generic statement to the news broadcasters.

“President Kim would be inconsolable with rage and grief,” Yixing starts. “He would order the heads of those who attacked you and immediate bombings of all no man’s lands within the country, and his requests would be granted. If he said he wanted each and every Imperfect within the city–man, woman, and child– publicly executed in retribution for his heir, they’d be dead in under a week. Your memorial would be grander than Junmyeon's, and only topped by President Kim and Great Ruler’s."

“You’re over exaggerating,” Luhan says with a scoff. He glares at the man across from him in disbelief, “President Kim doesn’t even like me.”

“It would be fake,” Yixing agrees easily. “He might not like you, but you’re his heir, and he’d use you even in the afterlife to get whatever agenda he wanted to be passed. No one would be able to say no either, because Luhan, through adoption you’re related to the most powerful person on this Earth.”

“You’re lying,” Luhan accuses, shaking his head for emphasis. Dread has settled deep in his stomach, as Yixing ignores him and continues to speak.

“Kyungsoo’s father helped create CNS, his mother was one of the leading researchers in Project Perfect. Kris’s father funded the research. Junmyeon’s family helped the right person win the war and has been supplying them with war weapons ever since. My family poured money into this city, and my father oversees an entire region. Luhan, your father, President Kim, is the only living relative of Great Ruler’s. We weren’t just being groomed to be businessmen and politicians. Why else would Great Ruler care if a model took over an entertainment company?”

“Kris’s mother died because of it,” Luhan says. He still doesn’t believe Yixing. “Why would his father allow his mother to be a guinea pig if he was funding it. Wouldn’t he know better than anyone else the dangers of it?”

“I don’t know,” Yixing admits, “but I have theories. I don’t think he expected to lose his wife, and… It’s been said that Project Perfect was Great Ruler’s idea. The nation was just starting out then, there was bound to be a lot of suspicion and maybe Kris’s dad wanted to prove his loyalty.”

“Do you have proof,” Luhan questions. When he notices Yixing’s look of confusion he clarifies. “Do you have proof of your claims? Can you tell me with 100% certainty that everything you said is true?”

“One-fifty,” Yixing answers. Luhan doesn’t say anything more. He’s no longer staring at Yixing, can’t stomach looking at the younger any longer, so his eyes are on the wall behind Yixing’s head. There’s more. He knows that there’s bound to be more, Yixing wouldn’t bring him down to this room just to tell him who he’s related to, and his heart rate quickens at the thought.

“What else,” he demands. “Just tell me everything.” His voice sounds as desperate as he feels, so he pushes himself back in his seat and straightens up. His pills are wearing off and his emotions are returning, but he’s resolved to ignore them.

"Junmyeon and I were put in charge of Deorum by the heads of CNS. We were specially chosen by Great Ruler's cabinet and given a team of four others. Our mission was to infiltrate the Red Devils and find out all we could about them. During our mission, Junmyeon and I uncovered two secrets that forced us back to the city. They're planning a large-scale attack on the city. We don't know when or where but they want to eliminate the elite class, including all of us.

"They know who you are, Lu, and who you're related to. Great Ruler has no children that we know of and you're the adopted son of his only living and known relative. I think that they assume you may have a chance of taking over upon his death."

Luhan’s stomach drops. The dread that was once there has turned into something akin to nausea and it swirls dangerously within him as his heart drums rapidly, dancing between speeding up and stopping. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he brings his eyes back to Yixing. "This is why you were worried about what I said earlier. You think they'll kill me soon, or kidnap me."

It’s not exactly a question, and Yixing doesn’t really answer it, but the way he closes his eyes a second too long, and the clenching of his jaw does. "Even if you aren't actually Great Ruler’s heir it looks like it to outsiders. You're in more danger than any of us."

"Tell me the other reason why you came back," Luhan requests. His voice doesn't break, it doesn't sound desperate, but it's still wrong. It's not quite like the blank emotionless tone the other Perfects use. He can hear the hysteria on the fringes of it.

"You know that reason," Yixing says softly.

“No, I don’t,” Luhan exclaims, glaring across the table at his friend. He knows he’s lost whatever control he has over his emotions and he barely conceals the shudder that runs down his spine at the distress that seizes him.

Yixing looks up at him, his features are softer than they were before. Gone is the cold professional look of a CNS agent, in its stead was a look that Luhan hated even more. Yixing didn’t look closed off, but he still looked wrong. Yixing’s bottom lip, swollen and red from abuse, was back between his teeth, and his brown eyes were wide and shining with sympathy. “Yes, you do.”

Luhan stands, the screeching of his chair loud but unheard as he draws away from the table. His fingernails are digging into his palms, as his glare falters easing into a look of begging. He feels eleven again, emotionally exhausted and fearful, and all he wants to do is go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very dialogue heavy chapter, but you learn some important things. Can anyone guess what the second reason is?


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine

Luhan leans back in his seat, eyes closing to block out the light produced by the parking garage. Sweat has gathered at his brow and his chest heaves up and down as he breathes in rapid uncounted intervals. He’s home now, parked mere meters from the building’s entrance. Only lingering in the car to calm down. The drive from District Three back to Two had seemed longer than usual despite the lack of any traffic. At one point during his drive home, he’d pulled over to the side of the road, dry heaving as his gut twisted in nausea. It was by luck that he’d managed to get home without driving into a building.

He reaches up, his arm no longer shaking, and wipes the cold sweat away.

********

Minseok is asleep on the couch when he enters the apartment, head rested in the palm of his hand and work clothes still on. Despite the strong whirlpool of emotions within him, he feels his lips twitch at the sight, calmed just a bit at the thought of the secretary waiting for him. Minseok doesn’t look comfortable, but Luhan decides against waking him just yet and instead heads to his bedroom.

The diary is where it always is, stuck between a science textbook and an old leather covered book Luhan believes contains the laws of some dead religion. He’d have to destroy both books soon, they were even more of a danger to have now. He pulls the picture out of the breast pocket in his suit, looking over it once more.

There’s a crease down his father’s face, but it doesn’t dull the grin he has surrounded by friends. The three of them were happy then, proud of their accomplishments. Satisfied at how they’d fought and survived to see the start of a new world and the peace and happiness promised to them. Luhan wonders how long it took for the smiles to disappear, and for them to figure out that the perfect nation they’d built was nothing like what they hoped. How long after did it take for them to rebel?

Minseok is still asleep when Luhan exits his bedroom. Luhan takes a seat beside him, a small smile lighting up his face as he watches the secretary. The television is on but muted and Luhan’s face is on the screen, smug and glaring in challenge.

“Minseok,” he calls out, gently shaking the arm that isn’t supporting the male’s head. “Minseok, wake up. You’ll get a cramp sleeping like that,” Luhan whispers, leaning closer and watching Minseok’s face for any movement. Minseok’s head slips from his hand, and Luhan replaces it with his own to prevent him hitting against the sofa arm. The movement jolts Minseok awake and Luhan finds himself biting down on his bottom lip to stifle his laughter.

“You’re back,” Minseok mutters, voice thick with sleep. He sits up, yawning softly and leans back against the chair.

“I am,” Luhan replies. He leans his head against the secretary's shoulder, wrapping arms around his waist. “Were you waiting for me?”

Minseok’s hand is in his hair, fingers running through the strands in comfort. It’s a stark contrast to how they were in the morning and even a few days before. “I was,” he admits quietly, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?”

Luhan hesitates, burrowing himself closer to Minseok as he contemplates his response. He’s not sure how to bring up all that he’s learned or if he wants to with Minseok’s inevitable departure looming over them. It was daunting when remembering Minseok’s current behavior. Those things felt as if it would change their dynamic again and he didn’t need that “I’m not okay,” he replies, the tension bleeding from him as he relaxes further into Minseok. “Today’s been hell.”

Minseok’s hand stops its stroking, and Luhan bites back a groan of frustration. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes,” Luhan states, “but, I don’t think I should.”

“Okay,” Minseok says, “then just remember that it’s over.”

“Yeah,” Luhan agrees. He pulls out of Minseok’s embrace and instead holds his hands. He feels weird changing the subject so quickly, especially with how he’s still troubled by what Yixing has revealed to him, but something tells him that he needs to do it now. Minseok is calmer now and much more willing to hear him out. “I have two requests.”

Minseok tenses, the guarded look returning to him as he searches Luhan’s face in confusion. It takes Luhan by surprise and he can’t stop himself from wondering if the change in demeanor is from Minseok remembering his desperate plea earlier or if it’s another seemingly permanent change that he’ll have to get used to.

“What are they,” Minseok asks him, his tone is calm despite how tense he’s currently become.

Luhan looks down to their interlaced fingers, trying to figure out how to best phrase his request to keep Minseok from closing himself off even further. “I want us to try to go back to how things were before I found out about you, for the rest of the time we have together,” he answers. “I know you don’t trust me much –”

“I do,” Minseok says, cutting Luhan off.

“No, you don’t,” Luhan states, “not as much as you used to.” Minseok looks upset, so Luhan shakes his head to stop him from interrupting. “It’s okay, remember, I understand things now. You have more to lose by trusting the wrong person, and I know you want to trust me, but you probably won’t until I’ve gotten you to safety like I promised.”

“What do you want me to do,” Minseok asks him. “I am trying I just...”

“Your feelings for me are real right,” Luhan questions. “You weren’t mistaken, were you? I know we talked about it in my car that day, but you like me, right? You like me, the real me, on your own?” He wants to laugh at how childish he sounds and feels. Luhan also wants to reassure Minseok that regardless of his feelings he will still help him.

“Of course, I do, Luhan,” Minseok answers, right hand squeezing Luhan’s. He reaches the left hand up, running it through Luhan’s hair in comfort again. Luhan leans his head on Minseok’s shoulder and nods more to himself than in reply to Minseok.

“Okay, that brings me to my next request: Let’s go on a date.”

Minseok’s hand halts again, and this time the frustration is replaced by a mild amusement.

“What,” he hears him ask, the confusion clear in his voice.

“We haven’t gone on nearly enough dates since we’ve been together. We’re always too busy or there’s something horrible preventing us. It’ll be Sunday in three days, and I think we have a bit of time left before another horrible thing takes place.”

He looks to Minseok to gauge his reaction.

“Okay,” Minseok agrees, the confusion still there. He looks like he’s expecting Luhan to say it’s a joke.

“Great,” Luhan says with a grin, feeling relaxed once more. He leans forward pressing a brief kiss to Minseok’s forehead. “Now, go get some sleep.”

Minseok doesn’t move when Luhan pulls away from him. He sits there staring at Luhan in apparent thought and Luhan stares back, doing his best not to fidget under the unreadable gaze. Minseok’s hand presses against his cheek, catching him off guard. His hand is cold, but Luhan finds himself smiling at the touch.

“I’m sorry,” Minseok whispers. The smile doesn’t go away, but it does shrink as he tries to understand what Minseok means.

“Wha-” he begins to say. Minseok interrupts him by leaning forward, pressing his lips against Luhan’s. It’s their first proper kiss since Luhan’s confrontation. The kiss is brief, a chaste press of lips, and over before Luhan can really process it.

“I have been trying” he states. “I’m just… worried, you know, about us and all the dangers. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Luhan.”

********

Sleep doesn’t come for Luhan that night on its own. He’s trapped in thoughts of the power play that took place during his childhood. His birth father was a high ranked military officer, had been well-versed in strategizing and war tactics, his godfather as well, and his actual blood-related uncle. The three of them had created a rebel coalition designed to protect Imperfects civilians during the Genocide and help them escape the confines of the nation. He’d been chosen as President Kim’s heir not out of pity or desperation, but as a way of spitting on his father’s grave.

In a twisted turn of events, he was heir to both the Red Devils and Caelum, and President Kim knew exactly what he was doing when he drove up to Luhan’s home and commanded him to get in his car that fateful day. Luhan became a pawn, a living example of the nation’s strength and power. To those who knew, it seemed as if the son of a rebel leader had become an upstanding citizen, so indoctrinated into the nation’s ideals that he’d turn in his own father if he was still living. He had become a joke.

Luhan sleeps with the help of his illegal sleeping pills, the sedative nature of the pills keeping the nightmares at bay.

********

Luhan leans back in his cushioned leather seat, eyes closing for a moment as he lets out a noise of irritation. His fingers work at the space between his eyebrows to release the tension that has built up. Office work is not for him, and he doubts it will ever be. He’d do anything to be dealing with egotistical photographers, and wearing clothes that contradicted the actual temperature of the day. He’d even try managing, he’d liked doing that when he got the chance, being in charge and having more of a say in decisions had been enjoyable.

“Sir,” he hears and bites down on his tongue to prevent any more noises from leaving his lips. Joohyun’s voice is soft and soothing, the type of voice he’d associate with a radio host, but every time she called him over their intercom it was about more office work. “President Kim wants you in his office.”

Luhan sits up at that, checking the time as he does so. It’s almost noon, meaning that Minseok should be going home soon if the president doesn’t make him work overtime.

He exits the office a little more relaxed and tells Joohyun he’ll be back after his meeting with President Kim and his lunch.

********

“Are you getting off on time,” Luhan asks as soon as he steps in front of Minseok’s desk. Minseok looks up from squinting at his computer screen with a grin on his lips, nodding his answer. “Why?”

“I’ll take you home,” Luhan says, with a smile to parallel Minseok’s own. Minseok laughs, and he knows that even the old Minseok would try to put up a fight, however, the secretary doesn’t this time. He looks at Luhan, smile still bright and kind and nods his head.

“Okay,” he says refocusing on his computer screen, smile now close lipped.

“Take a seat,” President Kim commands as soon as Luhan steps foot inside the familiar office. He stands once Luhan does so, taking out a beige colored folder and passing it over. Luhan doesn’t speak as he takes the manila folder and flips through the pages.

All he sees are the faces of women–faces that seem familiar despite the stark differences between them–and their backgrounds.

“Are we looking to hire more employees,” Luhan asks. He doesn’t want to interview them. Despite the differences in appearance, all the women share similar backgrounds. Many have graduated from CSFL, like Yixing, while others were privately tutored. None have worked properly in their lifetime. They’re all the daughters of politicians and businessmen. None of them would work at their company with their family backgrounds.

President Kim laughs at him, it doesn’t sound as malicious as it usually does which surprises Luhan. “After recent events, it’s been decided that we need something unifying and uplifting for the citizens.”

“We’re in mourning,” Luhan reminds him bitterly, the memory of Junmyeon’s joke of a memorial service coming back and sitting at the edge of his mind. He closes the folder and places it back on the desk.

“Yes,” President Kim agrees, “but three months from now we won’t be. That’s when our plan will come into play. The most unifying thing a nation could hope for as both a distraction from the happenings and a motivator to move on with life is the merger of two powerful families.”

“A wedding,” Luhan speculates, “I’m one-half of the two powerful families?”

“We are,” President Kim corrects, coming behind Luhan to place a hand on his shoulder. “We will be, at least if we follow my plan.”

“Your plan, sir,” Luhan repeats in question. He doesn’t tense at the feel of President Kim’s touch even if he does want to shrug him off.

“We will properly announce you as heir after the Mourning officially ends. Nessen’s PR team is orchestrating a press leak, but we plan to hold a press conference as soon as we can. There, I will announce your status as heir and give your engagement my blessing.”

Luhan is at a loss for words, not that he’d be able to do anything but express his agreement. Once something was decided by the man behind him, there was no fighting it.

President Kim removes his hand and gestures towards the folder before Luhan. “I’ve done the preliminary work of narrowing down the women with families that wouldn’t lower our status. I’m allowing you to choose your own bride. Go on a few dates, if you must. You have time to make a selection that you can tolerate.”

There’s nothing to say except when, so Luhan does just that. “When will the wedding be?”

“In six months’ time,” President Kim answers. He draws away from Luhan and comes back around to sit at his desk. “A planner has already been chosen, and all you’ll have to do is choose your bride and show up.”

“And Kim Minseok,” Luhan questions. “What will happen to him?”

He notices the way President Kim’s eyes narrow briefly, but he’d never been able to read the man and is unsure rather it’d been a look of suspicion or one of surprise. Instead of sneering like Luhan expects, he responds without ridiculing him.

“I’m aware of your little affair,” President Kim states plainly, “and that he’s currently living with you. Kim Minseok is a valuable employee to me and I don't believe that should change because of your..." he trails off, eyebrow raising in suggestion. “You can explain things to him, or if you prefer you can pay someone else to. I’m sure he’ll understand. I'll have someone look into finding him an apartment in District Four in the meantime. From my understanding, his old home was unsuitable for someone working in this company.”

“Why,” Luhan finally asks. “I understand we need something unifying, but why marriage, and why _our_ family?” The word feels vile as he says it, but President Kim was rarely as agreeable as he is now. Luhan’s learned from the past not to challenge him when he’d get like this. President Kim’s attitude could change instantaneously and often enough when it did, he’d come across crueler than ever before.

“I volunteered us,” President Kim answers. “We are leaders and we must show it in all ways, rather it’s uniting the nation or protecting it.”

He pauses and stares at Luhan, his face completely unreadable. “I know I’ve been rather harsh on you these past few years, but it was all in good conscience. You’ve had eleven years of thinking and being treated as if you were inferior. You are invaluable. Your life is science’s greatest achievement, despite your assumed flaws your very being has ushered us into a new age of science and genetics. Despite that, you came to me with very little self-esteem and weak. I had to undo all of that and instill the values and attitudes of our culture onto you. We as leaders, must sacrifice for the nation, and stand at the forefront of change. We are not allowed to be weak. If we are weak more people like your friend will die from our incompetence.”

"I've proven myself," Luhan asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes drop down to the folder on the desk. He lifts a hand up to touch it. He’s being manipulated. He’s old enough to be aware of it, wise enough to detect it when it is happening, and yet he can’t help the way his posture stiffens, nor the way the air around him thickens in expectation.

“You have,” President Kim answers. Luhan stomach flutters and he feels disgusted at the sensation and himself. “Do you agree to this?”

“To marry and officially become your heir,” he whispers to himself. He wills away all his irrational emotions, instead, trying to regain his logical thought process. “I’ll do it if you can guarantee to me that Kim Minseok will get all that you’ve said. I don’t want him losing his job because you assume he may tempt me, and I want him in a nice apartment in District Four.”

“Will he be a temptation,” President Kim asks him. “Affairs are messy situations and public figures such as yourself can’t afford to be caught in one.”

“No.”

“Then, you have my word,” President Kim says in reply. Luhan nods and stands, grabbing the folder as he does so.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do my part and find a suitable partner.” He bows in a hurry and makes to leave after President Kim nods his head in dismissal.

Just as he's twisted the door and opened it a bit, the man speaks once more. "Luhan, if those pills you take are what has helped to facilitate this change in you, I'll have a physician prescribe them to you. The elite must not be caught in illegal drug dens."

"I understand," Luhan replies, "Thank you, sir."

President Kim nods and waves his hand as if shooing him away.

He knows why President Kim only brought up the pills in that moment, but as he exits and closes the door behind him he doesn’t feel even an ounce of anger. Minseok sits with his back straight, his eyes are facing forward but not focused on anything, anyone would be able to tell how nervous he is.

“You told him,” Luhan accuses, a teasing grin on his lips to get him to relax. He leans forward till he’s close to Minseok’s ear and whispers the rest of his statement. “I’m not upset if you did.”

“He caught me with them,” Minseok admits, he still hasn’t relaxed but he does meet Luhan’s eyes as he speaks. “I shouldn’t have had them out, but I did at the time and he saw them. He figured it out almost immediately.”

“That’s fine,” Luhan says pulling away. He lifts up the folder for Minseok to see. “I’ll go put this in my office, and I’ll meet you on the ground floor, okay?”

********

“You’re really not upset with me,” Minseok asks, the moment Luhan makes it to the main floor of the entertainment company.

“Of course not,” Luhan answers. “He wanted you to report on my behavior, the pills make it seem as if you’re doing so. It means that he still trusts you, and apparently has no one else watching. If he had anyone else he would have said brothel instead of drug den. It works to our advantage, we don’t need him knowing what I’m truly up to, do we?”

He grabs Minseok’s hand and leads him towards the building’s front entrance.

“What are you doing,” Minseok asks with a laugh, he doesn’t pull his hand out of Luhan’s or tries to stop as Luhan pulls him towards the exit.

“Walking you home,” Luhan answers, “it’s a lovely day.”

“Luhan, you’ll barely have time to eat before you need to return to the office if you walk me home.” He still doesn’t try to stop walking but his tone is disapproving, and he’s frowning at Luhan.

“I know,” Luhan says, “but if I drive, we’ll arrive too quickly and I don’t want that. I want to spend more time with you outside and not stuck inside my car or at home.”

Minseok looks ready to disagree but Luhan interrupts before he can protest even more. “I’ll stop at a cafe on my way back and buy something for lunch.”

“Send me a picture,” Minseok demands.

“Of course,” Luhan promises.

They walk in silence at first, Minseok’s hand is warm in his own and relaxing despite the heat of the sun beating down on them. Minseok hadn’t changed overnight. He was still hesitant in many ways and tensed up momentarily whenever Luhan touched him unexpectedly, but he was trying harder than before and Luhan was grateful for it. Luhan was also careful now. He didn’t want Minseok trying too hard to appease him nor did he want to force him into doing too much, so he was conscious of his own behavior.

“Where did you want to go on our date,” Luhan asks, looking towards the shorter male. “What time do you want to go? We can leave early if you want, or go out later. We can even spend the entire day out.”

“I thought you had it planned already,” Minseok says, it’s the tone he uses that causes Luhan to grin to himself, pulling him closer so that there’s no space in-between them. He let’s go of Minseok’s hand and wraps an arm around his shoulder, putting on an exaggerated pout.

“I did,” Luhan says, resting his head against Minseok as he playfully whines his answer. “I have planned for us to do whatever you want to do.”

“Well, we have a problem then,” Minseok says, the teasing tone still there. “I want to do what you want as well. So, let’s compromise.” Luhan pulls away from Minseok to meet his eyes in question, gesturing for him to continue. “I don’t want to go to a fancy restaurant just because you assume that’s what a date should be. I want to do something fun, something that represents us and our relationship. It’s a little weird and unconventional, so let’s do something like that.”

Luhan’s quiet then, lost in thought as he tries to think of something weird and unconventional. “I’ll show you the city then. It’s something I used to do when I was younger, exploring the city, finding unfamiliar places and adventures. Junmyeon took me to the ugliest ice-cream shop around not too long ago, it was nice.”

Minseok laughs, grinning up at Luhan. "Exploring the city with you sounds fun," he agrees.

********

Luhan takes a picture of himself holding the large muffin he'd bought and sends it to Minseok as he sits down at his desk. He grabs the folder that he'd left behind, deciding to look through it again. All the women are beautiful. There are fifteen of them, all from different regions throughout the country, and with varying looks, but they’re all so similar. The women live within the city limits in homes throughout District One and Two. They’ve gone to the same school or have been tutored by teachers with impressive credentials. Only a quarter of them seem to work, the rest live lives of leisure thanks to their parents’ money.

One of them will be his bride.

If he stays he’ll have to marry one of them. If he stays he’ll officially become heir and if Yixing’s theory is correct he’ll be heir to more than just an entertainment company. If he stays, if he listens to President Kim and doesn’t die before him or Great Ruler, he may become the next leader of the nation.

Maybe, he should stay. Minseok had seemed uncomfortable with the idea of Luhan leaving with him. Luhan hadn’t really planned to leave either, it had just been a possibility, something he’d said to Yixing and Minseok while overwhelmed. Staying would be for the best, it would be the responsible thing to do. If he stayed, if he became Great Ruler, he could do something more. He could put an end to the fighting between Perfects and Imperfects, and make sure that no one else died. He could end the laws that kept Imperfects fearful and hidden in the shadows of cities.

Only, how many people would die before he could do so? And just how much more of his morals would he have to hide to get to that point?

If he left, he'd have nowhere to return to. He wouldn’t have anywhere to go either. Minseok might not want him around, and regardless of his father's alliance, he was an enemy to the Red Devils now. His disappearance would make him an enemy to the nation. If caught he'd be a dead man.

It would be a gamble, either option relying heavily on possibilities rather than facts. Both having an ending of death if he wasn't careful.

A steady beeping from his computer screen draws him out of his thoughts, and he looks up just as the entire screen turns white. The beeping continues, it’s not loud but nothing Luhan does fixes it. It stops suddenly, a screech of a noise replaces it as the white fades to black.

The letters JUMHRG appears on the screen in white, and the sight of it relaxes him as he recalls the coded language the former CNS tech created.

The blinking cursor beside the bolded word begins moving as more letters arranged in code appear.

**WM MV CGEHV**

Luhan had been told to keep the messages short and to the point. They'd already worked out the details to everything, so he knows as he types his own message that it will be understood.

**WBHQ WCXYVGEB?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an adult, I've forgotten all the coded message rules of my youth, so I quickly made up a nonsense code on the spot that's both too complicated to explain but probably wouldn't be too complicated to figure out. I won't make you figure that out. JUMHRG is code for friend
> 
> The bolded parts say: "IT IS READY" and "NEXT SATURDAY?"
> 
> If the next two chapters don't end up being too long ( knowing me it's a high possibility that they will be) then this fanfic will finally end. I'm really excited, I cycled through many possible endings, and I've settled on one that I really like.


	41. Chapter Forty

On Sunday, the day of their date, Luhan finds himself awake before Minseok. There are no disasters calling for their attention, no worries to hide away from, there is nothing to halt the day’s plan. There is guilt. A hint of it lies dormant beneath Luhan’s surface, threatening to erupt if Luhan doesn’t distract himself from it. The guilt is there in response to the secrets he’s keeping, and how he’s putting off helping Minseok for a day of selfish indulgence. It’s there, but it doesn’t keep him away from his plans. The desire to ignore it and make up for the things he’s hiding motivates him. Rather than just a date, he wants to spend the day reminding Minseok just how much he’s infatuated with him. This is their last date and Luhan wants to make it special because despite whatever path he may choose he knows that things will soon change.

He hears his bedroom door open while facing the espresso machine he’d bought years ago but hardly ever used.

“Are you cooking,” Minseok asks, his voice heavy with sleep. Luhan chances a quick glance back and watches as the Imperfect yawns deeply, eyes scrunching close and mouth opening wide.

He grins and turns back to his task before him. “Sit down,” he commands. The excitement within Luhan is hard for him to control, and with him not taking his pills his emotions were under even less control. He does his best to control it, needing to keep his hand steady to perfect the job at hand. He doesn’t want to mess up and force down a third failed drink. “Also, don’t touch the dish cover.”

Minseok makes a noise of question, but Luhan hears the sound of a chair scraping against the kitchen floor, and doesn’t think much of it. It’s his first time cooking for someone other than himself. All the people he would typically cook for had their own professional chefs, or in Kyungsoo’s case preferred to cook for themselves. As for former lovers, they would have never appreciated the effort. Luhan knows Minseok will and thoughts of Minseok’s reaction as tries the food Luhan makes is a prime cause of his excitement. His first attempts at the meal on the table hadn’t been the greatest. Some had come out undercooked, while others were burnt and misshapen. The well done and misshapen ones had tasted well despite their unfortunate disfigurements.

“Done,” he proclaims to the room even though it’s only the two of them. He turns around and walks over to the table, coffee mug held firmly with both hands. He places the drink down gently beside the hidden dish. He then pulls up the dish cover with an almost dramatic flourish. Luhan keeps his eyes trained on Minseok watching his reaction as he reveals the hidden strawberry pancakes and the latte with the lopsided heart he’d just drawn using steamed milk.

Minseok stares at first, eyes shifting from the purple mug to the plate of pancakes before him. “You made me breakfast,” Minseok asks him, surprise overtaking his voice. It’s not breakfast in bed, Luhan thought that would be too cliché to do, the pancakes aren’t heart shaped either. There aren’t any flowers on the table, or really anything besides the latte with the heart that makes the breakfast seem romantic, and yet Minseok looks at it in honest wonder.

“I’ve made you breakfast,” Luhan agrees, sitting down and handing Minseok a knife and fork. “It’s not much, and I’m sure you’ve had better, but... it’s something I wanted to do. At least once.”

“Why,” Minseok asks, his eyes are focused on the pancakes, his hands shaking a bit as he clumsily attempts to cut the pancake into smaller pieces. “I’ve never had pancakes before. It tastes great.”

Luhan grins, unable to stop the smile even if he wanted to. “Why,” he repeats, “because you’ve made me breakfast. You almost always make breakfast even though I can't eat what you want to eat. Because, you've never had pancakes before and I've adored them since I've first tried them, and because I want today to be something to remember forever.”

Minseok responds to that by lifting his fork with another messily cut piece of pancake for Luhan. Luhan looks from the pancake to Minseok’s eyes and leans forward taking the bite offered to him. It’s silent for a brief moment as Minseok indulges in his breakfast.

“Thank you,” Minseok says at last. His eyes are focused on the mug in his hands, but his lips are tugged into a smile.

********

They leave late in the day, taking a taxi to the destination Luhan has in mind. Minseok doesn’t complain or question him even after Luhan gives a whispered location to the driver. Minseok simply holds Luhan’s hand and watches the passing scenery through the car’s window as they head towards their destination.

“Are we going to school,” Minseok asks, teasingly as they stand in front of Caelum’s National University. His eyes roam from the black iron gates to the tall buildings in the distance.

“Yes,” Luhan says. Minseok turns towards him eyes narrowed and lips pressed down into a small frown of doubt. Luhan grins. “There are a few interesting classes that we can visit before dinner. I figured it could be fun.”

He tugs at Minseok’s hand leading him up the path towards the school. Minseok follows, eyes taking in the sights of the campus. The lawn is a brilliant green that stays that way throughout the seasons, and from their path up the gravel road, there are four visible buildings.

“You’ve done this before,” Minseok says, it isn’t a question but Luhan still struggles to explain himself.

“I used to...” he begins only to trail off, unsure of how to explain the way he’d pretend to be a student on days where he was overwhelmed by his home life. Pretending to be a student had been therapeutic. “This place was a nice distraction in my past when I wanted to run away but was too scared to do so.”

“The security,” Minseok asks him. There’s a hint of concern in his voice but he doesn’t stop walking with Luhan.

“It’s only ever extreme for the controversial classes where forbidden things are discussed. I have a pass for basic entrance that I might have borrowed from Kyungsoo and never gave back.”

********

“Pick a class,” Luhan demands as they stand inside of the main building. Minseok is leaning against the wall of the building, using Luhan’s phone to read through the classes offered. Every now and then a person walks pass the pair of them, eyes lingering on Luhan’s back with obvious interest.

“I never expected Caelum’s National University to have courses on visual art.”

“It’s mainly filled with elites,” Luhan explains. “The ones that spent most of their lives being tutored and still decided to get a degree. Most of them already have predestined jobs, so Uni is just a time for them to play around.”

Minseok hums at that and lifts his gaze to Luhan’s. “I can’t decide between the painting class and filmmaking one.”

Luhan leans forward till his forehead is touching Minseok’s as he tries to view the phone upside down. “Let’s go with painting,” he suggests. “The other is too close to the other thing I have planned for today.” He looks up to meet Minseok’s curious gaze and grins. “Or, we can take a creative writing or poetry class.”

“You’re a poet,” Minseok asks with a tilt of his head.

“No,” Luhan replies, and he’s still close to Minseok. “But with my muse in front of me, I’m sure I could think of something.”

Minseok pushes him away, rolling his eyes at the comment. “You’re too much Luhan,” he says scoffing. “Let’s just take the painting class.”

Painting isn’t something Luhan was born to do. His mini easel depiction of the sun setting over the river is better off left for individual interpretation in his opinion. The professor had taken one look at him earlier and as she now stands observing the drying portrait, Luhan watches her in mild amusement as she stumbles over her words to praise his horrid attempt.

Luhan almost feels insulted at her blatant lying especially when she brings up Van Gogh, but Minseok is beside him trying his best to stifle his laughter, so Luhan continues to allow her to talk herself in circles.

Minseok isn’t much of an artist himself, but he’s better than Luhan. The colors blend well and his sun actually looks like a sun. They leave their easels behind; the professor tells the class they can continue with their days and retrieve them once they’re dry.

Dinner is next on Luhan’s list, but unlike the other things he’s planned, he doesn’t have a restaurant in mind. Minseok doesn’t mind, he allows Luhan to drag him through the streets of District Four in search of the perfect restaurant. The one they do settle on is pub styled.  The chairs are all tall and wooden just like the tables, the lights of the restaurants bathe the room in a reddish tint, and their drinks are served in tall bar glasses. The restaurant boasts of having the best-fried foods in all of Caelum, and from the number of patrons there, that claim seems to hold some truth.

“So, where next, Van Gogh,” Minseok teases as they stand outside of the restaurant. The sun has long since set and with it, the warmth of day has left. There is a frosty chill to the night air that has the pair of them huddled close together.

Luhan glares at the nickname as he loops his arms around Minseok’s waist. They’d brought along their jackets in anticipation of the temperature drop, but Luhan still uses the cold is an excuse to hold Minseok. “Do you want to see a movie?”

“A movie,” Minseok repeats. “I thought we were going for unconventional.”

Luhan pulls closer to Minseok, resting his head on Minseok’s shoulder. “We’re in District Four, Minnie, home of the unconventional and risk-taking Uni students. You’d have to be pretty determined to find something conventional to do here.” Minseok pinches him at the nickname, and Luhan bites his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“Fine,” Minseok says, “I trust your date planning abilities. Lead the way.”

The movie theater Luhan has in mind is underground, and more than just a little bit illegal. On the outside it looks normal, there’s a sign advertising a bar and billiards hall, but nothing about a theater. The main level is empty when they arrive, so Luhan leads Minseok towards a door marked stairwell. There are two doors in the stairwell and stairs that only go up. One door is an exit, the other is a locked door marked utilities.

Luhan heads over to that door, punching a six-digit code into the keypad, and opening it. He gestures for Minseok to step through first. Minseok does as requested and looks at the boilers and generators in the room. “Is this,” Minseok begins, looking back towards Luhan.

“Yes,” Luhan replies, lifting a finger up to his lips and playfully winking. “It’s a secret.” The stairs that lead to the theater are rusted, they shake and squeal with each step the pair take, threatening to collapse underneath their weight. At the bottom of the stairs is a double door and once they go through it, Luhan watches as Minseok’s eyes widen in surprise.

The walls of the theater’s lobby are an off-white, with tall ivory pillars reaching from floor to ceiling. The carpet underneath their feet is red with brown patterns etched into it, and above their head is a painting of a woman with long flowing hair lounging on a chaise, rosy-cheeked babies surrounding her.

The theater’s design and the films offered are the only things dated about the place. There is one auditorium designed for dates. The seats there are a plush leather and have enough space for two. That’s the auditorium Minseok and Luhan chooses. The pair of them pressed close together as soon as they sit. The freshly laundered blanket supplied to each loveseat allows them to take their jackets off and pretend that they’re watching a movie in the comfort of their home.

Luhan looks towards Minseok and is struck by the thought that despite all his talk of avoiding the conventional Minseok might not have ever been to a movie theater before. As he watches Minseok look around them, taking in as much as he can, there’s a part of him that wishes that he would have chosen to go to a proper theater where Minseok could actually understand the movie presented to them.

********

Two hours later, Luhan watches as Minseok sits down on the grass beside the river, yawning loudly as he stares out across the water. “This is weird,” he says, grabbing the can of instant coffee Luhan passes to him.

Luhan looks across the river, he can see the outline of tall trees in the distance. If he squints he can pretend to see Minseok’s house glowing behind them.

“We can go somewhere else,” Luhan suggests, not yet sitting.

“I don’t want to,” Minseok says in reply. He looks to Luhan and pats the space beside him. Once Luhan sits, Minseok goes back to staring at the land opposite the river. “This was fun.”

“I should have taken you to a proper theater,” Luhan says. “You probably would have enjoyed it more if you understood it.” It’s his only regret. He knows Minseok wanted to do something different, didn’t want a normal date, but that didn’t mean Luhan couldn’t regret that part. It was thrilling, sneaking into the theater and showing Minseok something hidden and unknown, but he still couldn’t help but think about how nice it would have been to be surrounded by couples, couples that didn’t have to hide and lie and could go on dates without worry that their lover might be identified and taken away.

“I enjoyed it well enough,” Minseok says, resting his hand on Luhan’s knee. “There were subtitles.” Luhan doesn't point out that those subtitles were most likely inaccurate, the language within the film had been dead for years. Minseok is probably well aware of it.

“I like this,” Minseok clarifies, lifting his hand and gesturing vaguely. “I never knew District Four had so much to offer, and being with you, here, was fun.”

Luhan hesitates, he tells himself not to imagine Minseok in District Four, not to imagine walking along the river with him on bright days, and drinking in college pubs at night. He’s not supposed to imagine spending rainy days in a cozy one-bedroom apartment cuddled together underneath warm blankets. There’s no use imagining them as a normal couple when they never will be. He still finds himself asking the one thing he knows he shouldn’t.

“If you could, would you live here?”

“District Four,” Minseok asks, he turns his head away from the river as if assessing the neighborhood behind him. Luhan doesn’t know if it’s his own desires clouding his senses that make Minseok sound almost wistful as he continues on. “I never thought about it.”

“President Kim is looking to find you a home here in District Four,” Luhan says, and to disguise his own wistfulness he continues on. “You’ll be gone before he actually does. It’s good, however, it means you’re still safe.”

They fall into an uneasy silence, Luhan doesn’t know what Minseok will do with this information, and he’s still trying to remember why convincing Minseok to live in District Four won’t turn them normal.

“President Kim hinted at giving me the gene before,” Minseok mutters. Luhan’s eyebrows raise at that and he turns towards Minseok in surprise. He wants to ask if he thought about taking it, but then his rational side takes a hold of him again. President Kim has never been one for charity, and although he did say he liked Minseok, Luhan knows that he wouldn’t do something as big as that out of the goodness of his heart. It makes him wonder just what Minseok would have to give him in return.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Luhan says, back to his senses and back to reality.

The distant chatter of the people around them and the hum of city life fill the silence for them. Luhan reaches a hand out, sliding it through the blades of grass to rest on Minseok’s hand. Minseok turns his palm up and their fingers slip together easily settling into the gaps of their hands.

When Luhan turns towards the other, Minseok is staring in return, his head tilted in question.

“What’s on your mind,” Minseok asks him, gaze intense as if he can read Luhan’s thoughts.

Luhan falters, his fingers twitch at the question as if threatening to pull away on their own accord. Minseok’s grip strengthens. “Why don’t you want me to go with you,” Luhan asks their interlocked hands. Minseok’s grip slackens but neither of them let go.

When he looks up he’s met with the trained blankness of Minseok’s face, and eyes that are shining with determination. Luhan assumes he’s been preparing himself for such a question since he had first avoided it that day.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, it’s just that I don’t think you should,” Minseok states quietly. “It will be hard and dangerous out there. You’ll need to give up your friends and everything you’ve ever known. You’d have to undo the prejudices you’ve learned and although I know you can, I’ve seen you do it, I think you’re safest here in the city.”

He stops and turns away from Luhan, his lips pressing down into a frown. “Mostly I don’t want to be the reason you leave. I don’t like the idea of you giving things up for me, you’re already putting yourself in too much danger just being with me.”

Luhan thinks the last reason is unfair, Minseok’s in more danger being with him than Luhan will ever be, and Minseok has given up more for Luhan than Luhan will ever be able to do the same. Luhan knows that if he gets on his knees in this moment and pleas for Minseok to take the gene and the District Four apartment, he’d at least humor the idea. Luhan doesn’t voice any of that, they’re still on a date and he doesn’t want it remembered for all the wrong reasons, so instead, he nods his understanding.

“I think I want to stay. I- I’ve learned some new information recently, a lot of new information to be honest, and I think it would be best for me to stay. I think my staying here will allow me to finally follow in the right man’s footsteps. I can help the right side by staying.”

He releases the breath he was holding and grins at Minseok. “I want to create a place you can safely return to and be able to buy a pair of glasses to aid your vision.”

Minseok’s look of serious contemplation turns into one of playful offense. He releases Luhan’s hand to slap his knee as he tries to hide his laughter with a mock glare. “My vision is not that bad,” he says in protest.

“I thought you didn’t want to walk through the park that day because you were afraid of invisible monsters not because you were afraid of falling over some branch you couldn't see. I felt very manly and chivalrous that day."

Luhan pouts to show his annoyance and Minseok laughs hard.

“You can still feel manly if you want,” Minseok says, eyes glowing with amusement and lips stretched into a bright smile. “I didn’t fall that day thanks to you chivalrously holding my hand.”

Minseok returns to holding his hand, and presses close into Luhan’s side. “Luhan,” he calls out, voice still edged with delight as he rests his head on Luhan’s shoulder. Luhan turns his head, and Minseok swiftly presses his lips against Luhan’s. It’s different from the chaste press of lips that they’ve indulged themselves in over the last few days. This kiss reminds Luhan of their very first kiss at the homecoming party he’d thrown for Yixing and Junmyeon. Minseok’s lips are cold from the night’s chill but they press against Luhan’s with just the right amount of pressure, molding against his lips and drawing him in. It's confident and Luhan finds himself relaxing into it, letting all his doubts and hesitations he wasn't aware of slip from his shoulders.

Luhan’s fingers reach, tangling in the short strands of Minseok’s hair kissing him back with all he can. It’s far from the last kiss they’ll ever have, and Luhan has never been a romantic but this is the kiss he wants seared into his memory. To him, this kiss is a reminder that they were able to overcome a plethora of obstacles and a promise that they will do the same in the future. They may not be normal, but they will be okay even if they might end up separated in the future. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've split this chapter in half since both parts were long and covered different subjects. I was also going to keep this away a little longer to tweak more, but I decided not to let my perfectionist tendencies get in the way of this.


	42. Chapter Forty-One

Luhan turns his car off and sits back in his seat. It’s thirty minutes before the District-wide curfew takes effect and all he can hear is the steady drumming of rain and Minseok’s soft breathing. A hand touches his shoulder drawing him from his thoughts, and he turns to face the car’s only passenger.

“Are you okay,” Minseok asks him.

Luhan nods his answer and takes the hand on his shoulder off to hold. “Yes,” he says aloud with a smile to ease the worried lines of Minseok’s face. “I was just thinking.”

His smile doesn’t seem to comfort Minseok like he hopes, but he does manage to pull a small grin out of the other.

“I’m not worried about this part,” Minseok admits. “I’ve done this before, and I trust the guy you found. You said he was a former CNS Tech right? I think he’d know best how to not get caught.”

“You’re right,” Luhan says in agreement. He looks around the near-empty lot through the car window. On the border of District Eight and the Red Light, hidden by the fog of heavy rainfall stands _Mirage Motel_. It’s a shabby little love motel masquerading as something more respectable, but the three other cars, two of which more expensive than most can afford, tells otherwise.

“Stay here,” Luhan tells Minseok, “I’ll go get the key.”

There is one person in Mirage Motel’s main office, a balding man that appears to be middle-aged and who stares down Luhan with obvious curiosity. He sits behind the office’s counter, watching a muted movie on the mini-monitor before him.

“I'd like a room for the night,” Luhan tells the man, fingers drumming against the counter as he looks around the office. There’s a camera in one corner discrete and facing the entrance. Luhan looks away from it and towards the dish of hard candy on the counter before him. “Particularly room 115 if available,” He adds on.

The man doesn’t show his surprise openly but Luhan picks it up just as it swiftly fades away to be replaced by a look of calculation. The man’s eyes are on Luhan again, roaming over his body in an attempt to find signs of wealth. Although Luhan had made sure to dress down, anyone would be able to tell what District he hailed from and a quick web search would tell a person just how much they could make selling his sordid secrets to tabloids.

Luhan grins as the man stands and begins approaching him. He reaches a hand into his jacket pocket and pulls out a wad of clipped cash, more than enough for a one-night stay in a low rate motel, and slides it over to the man.

The hotel owner takes the money and removes the clip, beginning to count it, eyes flitting from the money in hand to Luhan and back again.

“I can count on your discretion, can’t I,” Luhan asks. He’s emulating President Kim now, trying for cool and nonchalant but with the slightest hint of threat in his voice. It disgusts him, but it’s necessary.

“Of course,” the owner answers when he finishes counting. He reaches under the counter, and pulls out a gold key card, handing it over to Luhan.

“Great,” Luhan says, feeling his grin stretch into something much more wicked. “I’m sure a man with your history knows better than anyone how to keep a secret.”

********

Inside the motel room, Luhan doesn’t give himself a second to dry off. He wants to get things over with as quickly as possible and begins proofing the room as he was instructed. He asks Minseok to help by retrieving the bathroom’s towels. He then proceeds to move around the room unplugging unnecessary electronics and removing the batteries from others. He has been instructed to make sure the room isn’t bugged in any way, and he does as he’s told

He turns the television on next, raising the volume till nothing can be heard besides the loud voices of news broadcasters.

Minseok is standing beside the closed bathroom door with the things he’s gathered, waiting for Luhan to tell him what to do next. Luhan uses the towels and bedsheets to cover the television and the windows.

It looks ridiculous when they’re done, but Luhan would rather they gave into someone’s paranoia than be caught doing something illegal because they weren’t careful enough.

With Minseok seated on the unmade bed, Luhan walks over to the door connected to the room beside theirs. He opens it and knocks hard against the closed door belonging to room 113. There’s nothing at first and Luhan wonders if the man will be able to hear the knocks over the muffled yet still loud news broadcast.

His silent question is answered when the connecting door opens and the CNS tech emerges. The man’s hair is dyed an almost platinum blond and is freed from the cap he usually wore in the presence of Luhan. He’s dressed in all black and has a pair of thick silver glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. He’s carrying a dark case with him, which he then places on the coffee table in front of the room’s small blanket covered sofa.

His eyes sweep the room with intense concentration, nodding as he sits himself down. “You’ve done well,” he states simply. Luhan doesn't hear him from where he’s standing, the television is too loud, but he can read his lips. The tech gets to work immediately, opening the case and beginning to take out tools. Once he’s done he looks up to Minseok, gesturing for him to come over.

He says something to Minseok when he sits, Luhan can’t see it, but he notices the way Minseok’s eyes are focused on the man’s lips. He then wipes a few things with one of the hand towels Luhan had instructed Minseok to leave on the table. “There should be a bucket underneath the bathroom’s sink, please retrieve that.”

Luhan does as he’s told and returns to the sight of the tech programming the chip, and Minseok leaning close to him to hear the words being drowned out by the television. “You’re a Next Gen orphan, the same day of birth, different year. They’re easiest to forge and have fewer regulations about how they leave the city. You went to University. Majored in business. You live in District Five. Your profession is the same.”

Once he’s finished programming the chip, he begins assembling the syringe. The chip is in a large capsule and bathed in pink liquid.

“Will it hurt,” Luhan finds himself asking, not expecting to be heard in the loud room.

“He should feel a couple of pinches at the most,” the tech says turning to face Luhan. “The liquid acts as a local anesthesia. It should numb the arm enough that I can inject the chip and navigate it towards the wrist. I will have to manually embed the chip into the cartilage to mimic how one would look if it was there for years.”

Luhan doesn’t like the sound of that but Minseok doesn’t complain, he simply grins a smile of reassurance towards Luhan and turns back to the man beside him. The syringe is large and squared, and although He’s had his blood drawn on various occasions Luhan has never once seen such a thing. The tech doesn’t waste time, he presses the tip against the inner part of Minseok’s upper arm and slowly pushes the plunger down releasing both the liquid and the chip. He keeps one hand on Minseok’s arm, his gloved thumb pressed over the injection site, and places down the used medical device.

He makes Minseok replace his hand and grabs a black circular gadget. If it makes any noise it’s drowned out by the television, but it seems to be programmed to the glasses the tech is wearing. Luhan watches him reach his hand up to press a hidden button the on the glasses. He drags the device down the inner surface of Minseok’s arm with a steady hand, pulling it away once he reaches Minseok’s wrist. He reaches for a third tool at this point, holding that against Minseok’s wrist as well.

Unlike the injection, the embedding produces a reaction out of Minseok, although it’s nothing more than a clench of his jaw and a tensing of his muscles. The tech returns to the implant site, at last cleaning the area of the dribble of blood and placing gauze over it.

When he’s done, Minseok lifts his wrist close to his face, inspecting the area and then turns it towards Luhan. It’s bare, not a bruise or scar in sight.

His turn is next.

He takes Minseok’s spot on the sofa, ignoring the looks of question and confusion Minseok continuously gives him as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

The tech turns towards him a small tube in his hand and a frown on his lips. “I can give you a surface anesthesia. You won’t fill the incision as much, but you will feel everything else.”

“I can handle it,” Luhan says in reply. The man doesn’t seem to believe him, but he still applies the tube’s contents onto Luhan’s upper arm. He then grabs the last device he’d used on Minseok.

Without anything to numb the full pain of the process the detachment of the chip feels like having his skin ripped off. It hurts, the pain lingering and pulsing, even after the chip’s been removed from its place embedded deep into the cartilage of Luhan wrist.

When the tech uses the pen-shaped circular device to move the chip, Luhan can feel it. It doesn’t hurt, but Luhan can feel the chip moving just under the surface of his skin, dragging its way upward even though it’s tiny in size.

“You’re going to bleed,” The tech tells him. “I don’t have anything to prevent that. You won’t bleed out, but there will be blood.” Minseok grips his shoulder hard, and Luhan looks up, finally meeting his eyes as he tries to give his own look of reassurance. It doesn’t help, but the hand moves, running along the width of his back as a sign of comfort.

The blade is small and thin. It doesn’t look as sharp as he expected it to and that eases his nerves. The drag of it doesn't hurt. It burns. The anesthesia dulls it only partially and that weak burn reminds him of liquor scratching a faint path down his throat.

The way the blood bubbles over, sliding down his arm causes him to remember one of the most painful things he’s ever experienced in his life. The intense pain from all those years ago resurfaces. The cut, two inches in size, goes ignored as he slips into the memory of the way the liquid had scorched a fiery path down his esophagus. He doesn’t react as the skin is pushed further apart nor as the forceps digs into the open cut, pushing pass blood and flesh to grab the chip.

He’s back to that day, back to pain, blood, and tears. He can taste it on his tongue. Can still feel it. The poison, smooth and warm like liquor.

Luhan comes back to himself with Minseok’s call of his name. Minseok’s head is rested against his own, and he’s using a hand towel to stop the blood flow of Luhan’s wound. “Are you okay,” is whispered to him. Luhan nods, swallowing. His eyes are on the tech, watching him jam the chip’s GPS signal.

“You were shaking.” Luhan doesn’t reply. He’s sure he could use one of the many excuses floating around his brain but he suddenly feels exhausted.

It seems to only take moments for the tech to do his job, and then he’s back to facing Luhan. Minseok removes the bloody towel and the tech uses the now cleaned forceps to place the chip back into Luhan’s open cut. He stitches it up afterwards. Luhan focuses on naming all the employees under him to distract from the feeling of his skin being pierced and sewn back together.

The reattachment feels like a punch, his wrist throbs at the pain even as the tech begins packing up. “I suggest you wait until the sutures dissolve,” he advises. “You may have a scar.”

He leaves and Minseok draws away from Luhan to turn the television off. Luhan slumps against the sofa, happy for the quiet, his eyes closing as he tries to relax.

“Why did you do that,” Minseok asks him. Luhan opens his eyes to see him seated where the tech once was, a box of tissues in his hand. “I thought you were staying.” He wipes at Luhan’s bottom lip, eyes on his task at hand rather than meeting Luhan’s. Luhan glances down at the tissue when he pulls it away, noticing the red spots dotting the once pure white.

“I’m going to be your escort,” Luhan says. “I haven’t been able to find a new escort that I’m comfortable with, and I think it’s too dangerous to rely on just anyone.”

Minseok’s eyes still aren’t meeting his, he’s regarding the sutures on Luhan’s arm with a hard to read look. “You shouldn’t have done that.” His hand reaches out, but he stops himself and pulls it away at the last moment. “You’ll have a scar.”

Luhan should say something. He knows he should say something because Minseok looks guilty like he’s the one that just dragged a blade across Luhan’s skin, but he’s tired. He’s said all the words in his head a thousand times already and knows by now that they just won’t work.

“At least I’m not a model anymore.”

Hours later they lay together on the nearly bare bed, both too tired and emotional wound up to turn the room back to its natural state. Minseok sleeps in his arms, head resting in the crook of his neck, his slow breathing tickling. Luhan can’t sleep. In only a few days, they will leave the city. It will be dangerous, both sides a threat, and Luhan is still so confused by what he should do. There’s a chance that if he returns he may need to reveal Minseok’s identity to press. He may have to feed the public the same lies President Kim conceived in order to prove his devotion to the nation.

No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, using Minseok as a scapegoat could never be for the greater good if it meant risking his life even further. Luhan would have to find a different way.

********

In the morning, Luhan gathers the misplaced sheets and towels. With the blanket covering the window removed, sunlight slithers in through the cracks in the window blinds, reflecting light off the blue walls and bathing Minseok’s face in its glow. The Imperfect doesn’t wake, he groans and twists away from the sudden light but settles back into the bed.

Luhan cleans the bucket in the shower and tries to do the same for the bloody hand towels. It doesn’t work. The blood has stained them so deeply that no matter how hard he tries to remove it, brown stains remain. He gives up and tosses them into a pillowcase, along with the other things he intends to incinerate. The money he’d provided for the night would cover much more than a few small towels and a pillowcase.

The day is just as quiet as the night before, the only sound Luhan hears is the gravel crunching underneath his shoes. The rain has stopped although the sun remains hidden by the overcast. There's a woman near the entrance to the motel's furnace. Her hair is long and dyed an artificial light pink. She looks up when she hears Luhan getting closer, straightening up as she lazily sweeps her eyes over him.

 “I know you," she says, her accent is thick and foreign, distorting the words she speaks so much that it sounds almost like a different language to Luhan. “That model.”

“I’m no longer a model,” Luhan says in reply. The woman doesn’t seem dangerous. Her clothes are worn and too big for her small frame, and the roots of her natural chestnut brown hair are showing. She’s small in height as well, and her accent suggests that she’s most likely an Imperfect.

The lock to the door is broken, but Luhan still needs to shove his shoulder against the door to unjam it. The inside of the room is messy, boxes and debris take up space along the walls and floor. Luhan picks up the heaviest thing he can find and uses it as a doorstop. The woman follows him into the room.

“Oh, I know,” she says. “Saw you on the billboards, you know. Heard what you said too.” Despite the strange accent, and the childlike appearance her voice sounds mature. “It’s dangerous for you, you know.”

“Are you going to do something to me,” Luhan asks, as he tosses his things into the fire pit of the furnace, watching the flames eat it away.

“No,” the woman says, laughing. “I’m not a fighter. There are others. They want to use you as an example. An eye for an eye. The death of the elite’s future for the death of our own.”

“You’re a–”

“A protector,” She says interrupting him. “I protect. Not you, but those that need it. Women and children.” She turns, her pink hair falling around her as she makes to leave.

Luhan rushes after her grabbing her wrist and holding it close to his face. There are no devil horns, but there is a tattoo. Foreign lettering spelling out a word Luhan can’t understand. “It’s my mother’s name,” she tells him. She doesn't step away from Luhan when he lets go of her wrist, she moves closer. Her head is tilted an inch, her eyebrows are drawn together, and she stares hard.

“What,” he asks, finding her loos unsettling.

“There’s blood on your sleeve,” she says even though her eyes aren’t on his T-shirt. Her eyes stray pass him, sweeping over the furnace as her lips spread into a smile. “I’ve never met an elite before, are they all as interesting as you?”

Luhan doesn't answer and she brings her gaze back towards his eyes. The intense look of concentration breaks and her smile loses just a bit of the teasing edge it has. She doesn't say a word as she steps away from him and turns back towards the exit, leaving him behind.

Minseok is awake when Luhan returns to room 115. He's seated in the middle of the bed, bleary-eyed and confused. He looks up to Luhan when the former model walks deeper into the room. "Where were you," he sleepily asks.

Luhan takes a seat on the bed beside Minseok. “I had to toss out a few things. Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” Minseok tells him. His eyes lingering on where the shirt covers the wound on Luhan’s arm.

“I’m fine,” Luhan says, pushing Minseok back against the bed. “Let’s rest a bit more before getting breakfast.” Minseok hums his agreement.

“Do you know what a protector is,” Luhan asks.

“A protector,” Minseok repeats. “I’ve heard that word used before. They’re supposed to be like the guardian angels to us Imperfects. Men and women that kind of patrol the districts and help those in need, I guess. Why?”

“Are they connected to the Red Devils?”

“Possibly,” Minseok repeats. “They, the Red Devils, work differently than what a lot of Perfects think. They’re integral to the Imperfect community. They aren’t good, obviously. But they help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally didn't think anything in this chapter was graphic enough to require a warning, but if you think otherwise tell me and I'll add one.
> 
> It's the beginning of October, I'm almost halfway done with the last chapter, but it probably won't be posted until the end of October at the earliest (Beginning of November at the latest). I really want to make the ending _perfect_ since the ending has repeatedly changed as the story continued and what I envisioned in the beginning would just not work now.
> 
> As always thanks for reading and all the support given <3


	43. Chapter Forty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey that takes place in brief scenes and a few goodbyes.

The place is still the same as it was all those months ago, hidden in the shadows of the busier more modern storefronts, with little to offer on the outside. The lights are still a dim yellow that bathes the entire place in a sickish tint, and the floors are still a glossy clean that causes shoes to squeak against it with each step taken. It isn’t as empty as it was that night. There’s one other person there now, a girl possibly in her late teens, sitting on a red cushioned bar stool, sipping a milkshake while staring down at her phone.

Luhan walks up beside her and selects the fudge ice-cream from the glowing digital board. Yixing is already there, seated at the table furthest from the service counter and facing the shop’s entrance. When Luhan turns away from his friend he catches the eyes of the girl beside him. He mutters a simple greeting, watching as she nods in acknowledgment, her eyes now focused on the pink counter in front of her as she goes back to sipping her milkshake.

“Why here,” Yixing asks when Luhan finally takes a seat.

“Do you know this place,” Luhan asks in return. The seats are just as uncomfortable sober as they were when he was drunk.

“No,” Yixing answers “It’s kind of ugly,” he adds on, looking around the place, “but in a charming way, I guess.”

“He brought me here the first night of your return. You went off with some girl and we went to eat ice-cream,” Luhan smiles down at the bowl in front of him as he recalls the absurdity of it. “Hadn’t been home in years, yet still managed to know the city better than me.”

“You would never go to a place like this on your own,” Yixing says. He’s smiling as well, his dimple making an appearance as he twirls a spoon into the melted mess of his strawberry ice-cream. “We loved finding places like this. They’re so different than what we knew growing up.”

“If you want different you should try eating breakfast in District Six,” Luhan tells him. “It’s like being transported to a different world, like one of those pre-war pictures where everything looks perfect and happy.”

Yixing quirks a brow at the statement but doesn’t question it further. “Where’s Minseok?”

“My place most likely,” Luhan says with a shrug. “I haven’t been home in hours.”

Yixing hums in understanding as he drops his spoon and sits back. “Why did you want to meet me? Have you decided?” He’s not looking at Luhan, he’s staring past him at the girl near the counter with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m still wavering,” Luhan admits. “I should stay.”

Yixing eyes flicker to him, hard and assessing, the fake smile still there. “You don’t want to,” He reminds Luhan. “You’ve always talked about running away and now the opportunity has fallen right into your lap. You don’t have to play hero or martyr, Luhan…” he trails off, taking a hand off the table to reach into his pocket.

He pulls out a thin beige envelope and slides it across the table.

“What is this,” Luhan asks, reaching out to take the envelope and open it.

“Your pass to leave the city during Mourning,” Yixing answers. “Maybe you need to get out to decide if you want to stay out. This gives you 14 days. You can escort Minseok, and if you still don’t know, you can visit Junmyeon’s site.”

Luhan looks down at the travel pass, feeling the tension he’d been carrying bleed away. He looks up and notices Yixing watching him with his real smile back.

“You know,” Yixing starts off. “I always knew Minseok was an Imperfect,” he says in a whisper. From the moment I first met him I had my suspicions, but I had never seen you so infatuated and I could tell he felt the same. So, I ignored it because I knew he would be the one for you.”

Luhan tries not to scoff at Yixing’s words, he does roll his eyes as he places the papers back in the envelope. “We’ve had this discussion before, remember? Back in high school, you thought that girl you dated was the one. What was her name again? Aya? I told you then that there was no such thing as _the one_.”

“I was wrong about her, but I think you were wrong about that,” Yixing admits. “There obviously isn’t a forever, even for us Perfects, but I think there is a perfect person out there for everyone. I think Minseok’s that person for you, and you might not have forever, but I can see you lasting a long time even if you do end up separating for a while.”

 “You’re too sentimental for a Perfect,” Luhan says, in place of all the other thoughts swirling through his head. The dimple is still there, the smile is still gentle, but it’s off now. He wants Yixing to be wrong, not because he’s afraid of Minseok being that person and of them separating. He wants Yixing to be wrong because he’d rather not think that Yixing has already lost that person to him.

“I know,” Yixing says with a laugh. “It’s my flaw or whatever, I’m a romantic.”

“And the other paper,” Luhan asks finally, referring back to the things inside the envelope.

“A letter,” Yixing says. “Ask Minseok to translate it. I think he’ll be able to. I’m not sure that it will help you with your decision, but it will help you understand the past a bit more.”

Luhan nods his head in understanding, letting the silence surround them as he thinks of what exactly the letter might say. “I have something for you as well,” he says finally, reaching into his other pocket and pulling out his own paper.

Yixing looks it over and puts it away. “If you were to stay, when would you come back?”

“Till we can be together without the threat of our lives being at stake,” Luhan admits. “If I stay with Minseok, you can come visit in the meantime, use those skills of yours for the greater good.”

“The greater good,” Yixing repeats with a laugh. “Luhan, making sure your alcohol supply doesn’t run low is not the greater good. Are you going to tell the others?”

“No,” Luhan answers with a shake of his head. “There’s no point getting them worked up over a possibility. Besides, I’ve never been good with goodbyes, you know that.”

When Luhan stands to leave, he grabs onto Yixing and pulls him into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he whispers to his friend.

“Don’t worry about me,” Yixing says with a laugh. “Don’t worry about anyone just focus on keeping Minseok safe and figuring out what you want.”

Luhan pulls away and even though Yixing’s smiling he’s doing nothing to hide the sadness in his eyes. “I’ll probably give this to Kris,” Yixing says in reference to the white paper in his pocket. “He’s going to kill you when he gets the news.”

“Do you think he’ll understand,” Luhan asks. He doesn’t add on, but Yixing seems to understand exactly what he’s asking. Will they forgive him if he runs away?

“He’ll hate you for a while, Kyungsoo too for that matter, but I think out of all of us he’ll understand best. Maybe he can follow you up there with Chanyeol if things get too bad down here.”

“You all can,” Luhan says, even if he’s still not sure if he’s staying. “If it gets too bad down here you all can follow me up.” It feels weird speaking of leaving and staying in such a definitive matter without having decided what he’ll do. It feels like goodbye, and Luhan doesn’t know rather that’s a good or terrible thing, but he does know it’s necessary.

********

“You should be asleep,” Luhan says in greeting as he steps into his living room. Minseok is seated on the sofa, eyes on the television while a documentary on Caelum’s creation is playing. Luhan sits beside him. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“Which is why you need sleep more than me,” Minseok retorts with a smile as he turns away from the television to face Luhan. His gaze softens, and his hand reaches up, caressing Luhan’s arm close to where the stitches had just healed.

Luhan grabs Minseok’s hand moving it away from his hidden scar, grinning. “I won’t change my mind. I want to do this for you. I need to do this for myself as well. You should know by now that I’m a bit paranoid and I won’t have any peace of mind till I see that you’re safe and where you want to be.”

Minseok’s frowning again, he’d been doing it on and off since learning that Luhan would be his escort.

Luhan leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against Minseok’s lips. “It’ll be okay. I’ve got everything arranged, and even this now...” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the pass that Yixing gave him.

“What’s this,” Minseok asks, taking the sheet and examining it.

“Special permission to participate in the Mourning at the Kim family estate in Starfall. This slip of paper will get us pass any inspection without us needing to say a word.”

“Thank you,” Minseok says suddenly. The television is off and Luhan has taken back the paper. They’re moments away from heading to bed. “I’ve said it before, haven’t I? You’ve done more than you needed to, much more than I expected. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

Luhan tilts his head at that, a smirk gracing his lips as he grabs Minseok’s hand and pulls him out of his seat. “Living is enough of a payment. All I need is for you to stay alive. I want us to grow old together and die happy in our old age, not a moment sooner.”

Minseok’s own smile surfaces as he studies Luhan’s face, his eyes bright in the dim light of the living room.

“Okay,” he says at last, stepping forward till there’s hardly any space between them. “Sounds easy enough.”

“Good,” Luhan says, choking on the word as he wraps his arms tightly around Minseok. “We should both go to sleep.”

********

It’s dark when they set out on their journey. The dawn is at most an hour away, and their limbs are still heavy with fatigue as they leave the safety of Luhan’s apartment. There are two bags in the backseat of the pickup truck Luhan bought for the trip, one being Minseok's red backpack filled with all the things he holds dear and his clothes. The other is a black duffle bag filled with food and black market paraphernalia Luhan decided to bring along. He hopes that his status will keep them from having their bags searched.

The sun has yet to have risen by the time they reach the inspection station at the edge of town, although the inky dark blue of the night sky has lightened in color. A gray uniformed trainee stands near the barricades blocking the only route into and out of the city. He approaches their vehicle with quick steps, appearing beside Luhan’s window with eyes bright and alert despite the early time.

“The Mourning is still in place,” he tells him in lieu of a greeting. His eyes move from Luhan to Minseok, face blank as he studies them.

“I’m aware,” Luhan says, handing over the pass he’d received from Yixing. He catches sight of the red of the trainee’s right cuff as he reaches for the paper, and stashes the information away in case the inspection goes awry.

The man’s next words aren’t directed to Luhan, but to his superior over his earpiece. Luhan turns away from him and towards the inspection station, half listening to the one-sided conversation for any red flags.

“Please come in for inspection,” the trainee tells them at last, handing Luhan back the pass.

They part inside, Minseok is led off to an exam room by the first physician that appears, and Luhan follows the next. The woman in charge of his exam asks him the basics at first; his name, his birth date, and his district, recording each word as they await the official that will watch over the inspection.

In the past, District police had primary control over the inspection buildings and borderlines. Luhan figures that with the rise of attacks, and the sudden need to have inspections even when departing the city, there will be a CNS member standing in for the inspection.

Minutes later Luhan’s guess is proven correct, however, instead of the CNS official he’d imagined, it’s the trainee from before, alone.

“The senior officer in charge has declared that we only check identification,” the trainee tells the physician. “This man is a close family friend of deceased officer Kim and we’ve been told not to hinder their journey. Traveling at night will be dangerous, even more so for an elite.”

The physician doesn't protest and simply picks up the silver identification chip reader, pressing it against Luhan's skin. It beeps a few times as the red display turns to green. The woman than looks up, reading the monitor behind Luhan's head.

Luhan can always tell when a person finds out he's a First Gen, the woman’s left eyebrow twitches as if she was going to raise it but decided against it. It's a split-second reaction, but it only takes a split second for someone to see the lowercase P in his ID number and know what it means.

"You're a First Gen," she asks Luhan, her attention is back on the chip reader, as she turns the device off it and places it next to the other tools. It’s a silly question to ask when she already knows the answer, but Luhan responds anyway.

"Yes," he says while rolling down his sleeve. "Is that a problem?"

The physician's eyes are on him, sweeping over his entire being, and he knows she's looking for flaws. They always look for flaws as if it’ll be spelled out on his skin. "Of course not. But, if you could, wouldn't you want to change it?"

"Why desire something I know I can't have," Luhan asks with a tilt of his head. "There hasn't yet been an antidote that doesn't counteract negatively with the gene we already have."

The woman's eyebrows are drawn so tightly together that Luhan can see the skin between them wrinkle. Her lips are pursed as well, she looks like she wants to say something, to suggest something, but she smooths out her expression and nods. "It's unfortunate indeed," she says. "If only more research could be done to fix that."

She turns away from him, picking up the tablet she’d been using and begins prodding at it as the trainee leads him out of the room.

"You have full clearance for the rest of the day," The trainee says, handing a small blue card to Luhan. "Any city you stop in will allow you to go through without any further inspections."

Minseok is standing beside the building's exit, his eyes on Luhan as he attempts to listen to what's being said.

"Are these new precautions the results of Junmyeon alone, or more?" Luhan asks, walking towards the exit with the trainee, hoping to get a broader picture of what to expect outside the borders of the city.

"It's a mix of reasons, I’ve been told," says the man beside him. "We’re on high alert to prevent more Imperfects from joining up with Rebels."

"And do you know if the ones that have caused my friend's death have been captured,” Luhan asks.

"Yes sir, one has been privately taken care of at Officer Kim's family's request. The other's execution date will be set soon, I believe."

Luhan leaves with a simple "keep up the good work" and Minseok trailing behind him.

Luhan pulls over when the city line is just a shadow in the distance. He follows the last few instructions he was given to have a safe journey without being tracked via the car’s GPS signal. Even with all the tricks and tips, he’s received, he finds the situation still worrisome. He is a high-profile celebrity, and if word got out of him being missing, he’s more than sure that he’d be easy to find.

The truck’s radio is missing. It was another signal that could be used to track them, so Luhan had it removed upon retrieving the vehicle. There's only the sound of their breathing and the rumbling vehicle's engine to fill the silence.

Minseok's eyes are on him, watching him with heavy interest.

"What," he asks, a grin on his lips. Minseok doesn't answer and Luhan chances a quick glance towards him. "What's wrong?”

"Nothing," Minseok says, his answer hardly heard over the noise of the truck's engine.

"Are you bored already," he teases. "Should we do something to pass the time?"

"What do you have in mind," Minseok questions.

"Let’s just ask each other questions," Luhan says. "There's still a lot of unknowns between us, and it'll pass the time quickly." He chances another glance towards Minseok. "You don't have to answer anything you don't like."

Minseok is quiet as he thinks over Luhan's words. "Okay," he says slowly, and Luhan can hear the hesitance in his voice. "You go first, ask me something."

There's a lot he could ask Minseok. There's so much he doesn't know about Minseok, both insignificant and major. "Remember when you told me you wanted to be a barista. Was that real?"

"Yes," Minseok says. "I wanted to own a coffee shop for years and employ actual people. We're, not just Imperfects but those of us from the poorer districts, we're not allowed to be seen. They keep us in factories and warehouses, out of the public eye, and I wanted that to change."

"So, you decided opening a coffee shop was the perfect act of rebellion," Luhan asks. He's not teasing him, he wants to understand him. It was the first piece of information he’d learned about Minseok and it had intrigued him. To want to own a shop or two wasn’t unheard of, especially from those in the poorer districts, but to want to work in a shop was different.

"If you go to a coffee shop in District One, Two, or Three, they all taste the same, right," Minseok asks him. Luhan nods, and Minseok continues speaking. "That's why I don't like them. Human coffee has its imperfections, but I don't think that makes it awful. Some people make their coffee sweeter, some make it more bitter than the standard. The heart you made for my coffee that day was lopsided, but I liked it because I could see your intentions behind it and how hard you worked. Machines can’t replicate that."

"So, we'll open a coffee shop when you return," Luhan says. "It can be a retro styled shop, you'll be the owner of course, and I'll just be a silent partner or something. I think I’m done making coffee for a while."

Minseok laughs and softly hits him. "You're such a dreamer."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Luhan says, frowning.

"There isn't," Minseok says. "It's my turn, isn't it? Tell me a secret."

Luhan hums to himself as he tries to think of something unknown and lighthearted to start with. "I took Kris's virginity when we were seventeen." It's probably something that shouldn't be said to a lover. Yet he can't think of much else. Besides, Minseok had never come across as the jealous type and always seemed to indulge in the rumors surrounding Luhan and his love life.

"Really," Minseok asks him, he turns to face him despite Luhan's eyes being back on the road. "Did you date?"

Luhan laughs, just from such a confession Minseok's mood seems to have perked up. "You're such a gossip," he teases.

"I am not," Minseok says in reply. "It's just interesting. You're both so close..." He trails off lost in thought, but Luhan can guess what he may be thinking.

"We didn't date," Luhan replies. "It wasn't exactly a relationship at the time either. We were both just very lonely and it helped things, you know. What's your secret?"

"I'm not telling you who I lost my virginity to if that's what you were hoping for," Minseok teases. "Hmm, since the second grade, everything I've learned has been from my parents. I haven't had proper lessons in years. When I became an adult, I began learning on my own."

"What did you learn," Luhan asks.

"From my parents, I learned basic arithmetic and reading. My mother loved languages, and as a sort of protest, she taught me a few Imperfect languages. As an adult, I continued learning those languages. Some I can speak well, others I can read well. I learned how to function in this society, learned the laws, the history and science that govern our lives."

Luhan had learned the same laws and history, and yet he was sure that how they'd learned allowed Minseok to live and blend in a world that despised him, while it had caused Luhan to despise men like him. They could have read the same textbooks, and yet the outcomes had been extremely different.

"You were able to communicate with Tao because of the languages you learned," Luhan says.

Minseok nods, "Yes, that was one of the main languages my mother taught me, alongside her native tongue. It's why I felt a strong kinship to Jongin. He doesn't actually speak it, but the way he holds onto the honorifics and the meanings made him feel like family on our first meeting. It was nice. What's on your mind?"

“Sorry?" Luhan turns towards Minseok in confusion.

"That's my question," Minseok says. "What's been on your mind these past few days?"

Luhan hesitates and then pulls over to the side of the road. "Do-Do you think you can translate something for me? It looks like the same characters from my mother's journal."

Minseok quirks a brow but nods his head. "Sure," he says. "It may take me some time."

"That's fine," Luhan says, reaching into the truck’s glove compartment and taking the envelope that now held the yellowed sheet of paper and the picture of his father. He hands the paper over to Minseok, watching his eyes roam over the words of the letter. “There’s a lot that’s been going on since Junmyeon’s memorial...”

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to,” Minseok tells him.

“I want to,” Luhan says, “but like I said, it’s a lot.” he has started to drive again. “Do you remember when I took you to my childhood home? You said you were sure that President Kim adopting me was a coincidence, did you really believe that at the time?”

“No,” Minseok admits openly. “I didn’t want to upset you further.”

“I think you would have been right,” Luhan says. “That, and what that might mean for my future has been haunting my thoughts lately.”

When it gets much too dark for Luhan to safely drive he stops. Luhan looks at a hand-drawn map underneath penlight, the words are hardly legible, the directions don’t make much sense, but it’s all they can rely on. There’s a deserted village a few miles from their location and it will be the first and only sign that they’re heading in the correct direction.  Minseok exits the vehicle first with Luhan following close behind. They won’t set out until it’s closer to dawn, preferring to take the time to rest versus getting lost at night in the middle of nowhere.

“Luhan,” Minseok calls out breathlessly, drawing his attention from his heavy thoughts. “Look up.”

A feeling of dread washes over him, fear causing his heart to pound with ferocity. His mind is racing, wondering if they’ve already been caught. He lifts his head ready to catch sight of a flying object with the seal of Caelum on it. Instead, he finds himself losing his breath at another sight, something he’d never seen before.

Stars, thousands of them, light up the night sky above them, twinkling in the open air. He’d seen stars before, on the web, in books and films, but he’d never seem them before above his head. Those images couldn’t live up to the sight of them sprinkled across the vast sky glowing above the pair of them as if promising to light them a path. It was a beautiful sight to bear witness to.

A hand on his shoulder causes him to look away and towards Minseok’s grinning face. He pulls Luhan towards the truck’s bed, climbing up onto it first and then gesturing for Luhan to do the same. They sit together, back against the front of the truck, Luhan leaning back to get a better view of the stars above of his head and Minseok humming softly.

"Are you nervous," Minseok asks him, he whispers even though they should be the only people for miles.

“Yes,” Luhan admits. “I knew it would be dangerous and difficult. I guessed it would be like this, but guessing and knowing are two different things. I don’t want to get this far and have it all be for nothing.”

“Do you regret coming with me?”

“No,” Luhan says. “I don’t regret this. I don’t regret meeting you, I don’t regret wanting to be with you, and I don’t regret falling in love with you.” He turns towards Minseok finally taking his eyes off the stars. “I mean it, I’m in love with you and I won’t regret anything even if we get caught.”

Minseok laughs. It’s a nervous sound that erupts from him as he looks away from Luhan. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

“I know,” Luhan says.

“You shouldn’t be in love with me,” Minseok adds.

“I know,” Luhan repeats. “

“You know everything don’t you,” Minseok asks him, he sounds annoyed but curious.

“No,” Luhan says, “I want to. I want to know everything about you, but you’re hard to read. So, tell me Minseok, tell me something I don’t know.” He knows how he sounds, it’s hardly a step up from begging, but he feels like he needs to know. He’s convinced it won’t change or influence his decision, it has nothing to do with that. The possibility of separating and never truly knowing is what has him pressing to know now.

“What if I don’t want to,” Minseok challenges. Luhan draws away from him and looks towards the stars, hoping that the soothing calm he’d first felt when seeing them will return. It doesn’t.

He can feel his heart beating fast, or maybe it’s the feeling of it breaking. “You don’t have to then. That rule hasn’t changed.”

Minseok is quiet, “I am in love with you, Luhan, but I shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t have even gotten this far with you.”

“Stop thinking about what you shouldn’t be doing,” Luhan tells him, feeling the frustration grow inside of him. “Stop restricting yourself.”

“I can’t,” Minseok exclaims, glaring at Luhan. “I’ve been restricted my entire life, I can’t just stop being affected by my limitations.” His voice cracks and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says at last. “I’m trying.”

“I know,” Luhan tells him, wrapping his arms around Minseok and pulling him close. “I’m sorry too.” The apology feels bitter on his tongue. He still feels annoyed, but it’s not at Minseok and not really at himself either. It’s a vague annoyance at the world around them.

********

Minseok is asleep in the backseat when they get to the village on the map. It’s less village and more just ruins. He pulls over next to a slab of brick that may have been the foundation of a building and begins exploring. The sun has only just begun to peak beyond the horizon, the sky has begun to lighten in color, and Luhan uses the brief time to explore and sort out his thoughts. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for and even if he did he doubts he’d find the answer in the ruins. He’d be lucky to see even an animal in the surrounding area.

He returns to the truck having found nothing but rumble when the sky is still golden and cloudy. Minseok stands outside the vehicle, hands over his eyes as he attempts to look into the distance.

“Did you eat,” Luhan asks him, stepping over debris to get closer.

“Yes,” Minseok says, turning away from the direction he was staring into to look towards Luhan. ‘Did you find anything,” Minseok asks him. Luhan shakes his head and they board the car again. “I translated your letter last night while you were sleeping.”

“Was it hard,” Luhan asks. He doesn’t turn towards Minseok, he’s too busy navigating through the maze of ruins.

“Not exactly,” Minseok says, pulling two sheets of paper out of his pocket. “It’s a dialect that many Perfects wouldn’t get, but it’s commonly used throughout our districts. It’s the main language the rebels are said to use.”

“You’ve heard them speak it,” Luhan asks.

“Yes,” Minseok replies and begins reading it.

********

_To Z._

_I have not heard from J since he's gone back to the Grounds. I've sent word to him both digitally and written more than I should and haven't received any in return. I'm beginning to worry. Have you spoken to him recently?_

_Unfortunately, I have much more bad news to deliver. I believe they've caught on to me. I've been followed by expensive trucks to and from work. Last night a man by the name of Seunghwan Kim requested to meet me at the factory. He seemed familiar and I'm not sure why. He’s said to partially own the factory, but I'm sure there was more to it than what they pretended was a chance to introduce me as team leader. I've never ignored my gut which is why the two that come with this letter will be the last until the suspicion dies down._

_My illness seems to be growing, and if my worries are correct I won't live long. I doubt they will help a person they assume is a Rebel, Perfect son or not. I fear for my son's fate if I die. Your nephew reminds me very much of your sister. He is kind and expressive and hasn't been brainwashed by what they're learning in school. With my death, I doubt that will last long. He's already seen as lesser for participating in the first experiments when he should be lauded. If he's sent to an orphanage the stigma will grow larger. It's why I need to reach J, I need to know if the Grounds has been compromised or not. I'll have K escort him there once I'm sure it's still standing. I'd rather have him with family than alone in this city._

_X._

********

Minseok stops reading and folds the translated paper, placing it with the yellowed one. “I don’t know whose initials those belonged to,” he says in conversation.

 “X is my father,” Luhan says, “my real father. Z is my uncle apparently, and J or K may have been a family friend.” He instructs Minseok to retrieve the envelope from the glove compartment and watches from his peripheral as Minseok looks at the picture of his father for the first time. “My father may have helped with the founding of the Red Devils and President Kim may be related to Great Ruler. I’ve been a pawn in a power play that started when I was just a child.” He releases a hollow chuckle and finds himself explaining it all to Minseok.

He tells Minseok about the things Yixing told him and then about the compromise with President Kim. He finds himself confessing everything he’d learned over the last few days. Laying things bare doesn’t help, it only reminds him of how little control he has in his own life, how he’s been nothing but a toy to use for political schemes and entertainment.

“You’re amazing, Luhan,” Minseok tells him, suddenly. “Your father wasn’t wrong, you’re kind and considerate, and I think he’d be proud of the man you’ve become. President Kim has tried to take that away from you, but he couldn’t succeed.” He turns away, looking down at his hands. “We’ve all had to do things we didn’t want to in order to survive, it’s okay if you need to do so as well.”

Luhan doesn’t fall asleep as easily as he had the night before. He lingers awake, finally thinking over his decision. It would be easy, more than easy to just stay away, to run from obligations and politics. He didn’t owe anyone anything, he didn’t have to declare a side, didn’t have to fight for change. Minseok was an Imperfect but he wasn’t the face of them, he wasn’t even fighting himself. He doesn’t understand why running away feels like a betrayal then. Only, he does know why.

Minseok wants to live, but he’s given up hope on being accepted into society as an equal, and that’s why he’s running away from it all, from the compounds and from civilization. Luhan knows he has a high chance of being the only person to change that. He doesn’t know how he’ll stop a war that society doesn’t want to accept exists, or how to change the prejudice in the minds of Perfects, but he still has the ability to fight and try.

He makes his decision when the sun rises on another day and Minseok is leaning against him as he sleeps.

********

It’s quiet. Minseok is pressed against the window beside him, eyes focused straight ahead and Luhan is doing the same. They’re hundreds of miles away from civilization, and the rumbling of the truck’s engine has become rather comforting to them. Minseok’s hand has been in his own since they’d started on the road again. Luhan can feel the emotions fighting within him, wanting to fill the silence, wanting to hold onto Minseok tighter, wanting to do something.

He does nothing, the dread of their remaining hours seeping away keeps him frozen and silent. He prays the time will go slower.

“I’m sorry,” Minseok tells him when the sun has set on their final evening together.

“For what,” Luhan asks.

“I love you,” Minseok says. “I’ve been in love with you for a while, and I should have just said that from the beginning instead of making things more complicated.”

“I don’t mind it,” Luhan says. “I mean, of course I did at the time, but I thought about it and I understood.” Minseok is staring at him, eyes unreadable as he gazes with intent at Luhan. His lips quickly pull back as if he’s going to smile but he grimaces instead and looks down, mumbling a swear under his breath.

“I love you, Luhan,” he says again, looking into Luhan’s eyes once more.

“I love you too,” Luhan says, pulling Minseok into a tight embrace, pressing gentle kisses along his forehead. “So much,” he adds, laughing gently to himself even as he feels Minseok’s body begin to shake against him.

********

Minseok wakes an hour before the sun rises, he squints into the distance and then looks towards Luhan.

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” Luhan whispers into the night, he looks towards Minseok and gestures towards the car’s doors.

“Have you gotten any sleep,” Minseok asks him as they climb into the truck’s bed, laying back to stare up at the few stars still in the sky.

“Bits here and there,” Luhan mutters, he looks away from the stars to glance at Minseok when he begins prodding at the bags under his eyes. “I don’t look much like a model now, do I?”

“Yeah, you do,” Minseok replies, pressing against Luhan’s side. “You’re going to need more than a few sleepless nights to not look like a model.” They fall into a comfortable silence as they stare at the stars waiting with restless hearts for the sun to climb over the distance and awaken the day.

Luhan notices the brownish grass first. He doesn’t look to the man beside him. He sees the white building leaning in the distance as if its moments away from toppling over. He focuses the way the windows glisten and sparkle in the early morning light and tries not to fixate on the weight of the hand in his own.

“Luhan,” Minseok calls out, breaking his focus. He looks over to the man beside him, Minseok has his red backpack in his free hand, his eyebrows are wrinkled together as if he’s trying hard to understand something. “I,” he starts off, stopping and blinking rapidly. “Don’t go.” The words seem to leave him in a hurry, catching him off guard. “I mean...” he tries again before trailing off and shaking his head. “Never mind, I’m just nervous.”

He makes to let go of Luhan’s hand, but Luhan stops him and turns to face Minseok head-on, frowning as he looks him in the eyes. “Minseok,” he says, “what do you want?” He pronounces each word slowly. “What do you really want, Minseok, don’t hide it.”

“You,” Minseok replies voice cracking, he turns away from Luhan and pulls his hand away out of frustration. “I always want you,” he laughs. It’s low and fake and it hurts. “I wanted you to press more, to ask me again, but you decided to stay. You never even tried to make me stay.”

“You’d die,” Luhan interrupts. “I want to prolong this more than you can even imagine, but I know you’ll die and I rather have you here and safe than dead. I…” he trails, breathing in deeply. “I want you too, Minseok. I want to be with you.”

“Then be with me,” Minseok challenges, looking at Luhan’s with an urgency Luhan has never seen before. Luhan falters at the request. He turns towards the building in the distance and then back to Minseok, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

“I...” Luhan starts off again, the words getting stuck in his throat. It would be so easy to stay, to start over, to live freely, but he knows better. “I need to go back, Minseok.” He looks at Minseok, refusing to not look away even though he wants to bow his head in sorrow. Minseok’s eyes are filled with resignation, and Luhan knows he expected that answer.

“Okay,” Minseok tells him, but he’s no longer looking at Luhan. He takes a step back and makes to walk away but Luhan stops him.

“I want to be with you, but not like this. I can’t sit around and wait for us to get caught. I need to do something, I need to do more, so I know that you’ll be safe.”

“I understand,” Minseok says, the whisper carrying over to Luhan through the still air.

Luhan reaches a hand out, his palm facing upward as he continues to watch Minseok. “I’ll walk with you if you’ll let me.” Minseok finally faces him again, but he’s not looking at Luhan. He’s looking past him towards the building. Minseok’s eyes are shining bright, the unshed tears illuminated by the morning sunlight. When he looks towards Luhan, Luhan watches as his eyes trace the tracks of his own tears. A familiar weight presses against his hand, and Luhan grips on tightly, afraid to let go a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic has been in the making for at least the last five years. I still remember when I had the first idea back in December 2012 even though it wasn't until 2014 that I finally decided to write things out and early plan them. This fanfic has seen member departures and my own temporary exit from the fandom and writing and yet it has finally reached an ending.
> 
> Obviously, not everyone will like this ending, there are numerous questions left unanswered and they end up separating but I preferred ending it this way where there's some hope. I can't promise a sequel, but I won't say that it's not going to happen either. There's still so much to explore in this world, and so much I wanted to explore initially but committing to another longfic right after this one feels like a recipe for disaster.
> 
> And also, thank you all for the love and support you've given me for this story despite its many flaws. I don't think I can even articulate just how thankful towards everyone that has read this fanfic rather they were silent, left kudos, or left comments. You're all great and amazing <3.


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